


Welcome To Dianna's

by mamalovesherbagels



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: But much later, Discussions of grief, chimney's mom dies of cancer like in canon, eventual discussions of domestic violence, not too graphic because this ain't trauma porn but, when chim is 35 not 15, will be covered because doug
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:26:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 33,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27125842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mamalovesherbagels/pseuds/mamalovesherbagels
Summary: Chimney hates his new job. He loved being a firefighter paramedic, but he loves his mom more, and after his death he's not willing to let go of the one last tangible link to her. So now he's running her bakery. So sue him if his (former) coworker's pregnant sister coming in when she has cravings and flirting with him is the best part of his days. He deserves a little fleeting joy, right?
Relationships: Maddie Buckley/Howie "Chimney" Han
Comments: 77
Kudos: 40





	1. Chapter 1

“Welcome to Dianna’s! This is Howie speaking, how may I help you?”

Howie hates his job. He also hates his name-- well, _hate_ his a strong word for that one, but he _does_ hate the job.

It’s more that he’s not used to going by “Howie,” anymore, but “Chimney” doesn’t really work when you’re the manager of a bakery. A bakery that he loves, but hates managing. It’s complicated, to say the least, and really, everything about his life thus far feels complicated.

He’s only working here because he misses his mom.

He had been so proud of her, and she had been so happy and proud of _herself_ that after she died, he couldn’t just let Dianna’s die with her…

His mom had so worked hard on it, had finally followed her dream after a decade of being married to a man who belittled her, and he expected her to play the role of the perfect housewife. She had finally left him-- or more accurately, didn’t follow him back to Korea when his job placement moved back there-- she was finally living for herself and learning how to live independently, without the pressure of pleasing a domineering husband, and then she got sick.

She held on for years and years in great pain, mostly just to spend more time with, so the least he can do is hold onto her passion project.

(There are other people who could manage it, Chim, Hen has told him again and again. But he can’t, he can’t let go of the one thing that still ties him to her.)

And maybe, if he’s being honest with himself, honoring and ensuring his mother’s memory isn’t the only reason he isn’t a paramedic anymore.

Maybe it’s a little too painful to save people’s lives everyday when he couldn’t even save his mother’s.

(It’s not your fault you couldn’t cure her cancer, Chimney, Hen has also told him again and again and again.)

So now he’s here, 35 years old and mother-less, with a distant father who is a major jerk to him on the rare occasions he isn’t a jerk to him, and he’s single with no kids, working a job that he hates where reminders of his mother’s absence are anywhere. 

So yeah, he’s pretty miserable, and he’s resigned himself to his misery for the foreseeable future.

Some people just don’t get to be happy, he thinks. Look what happened to his mom.

She broke free of her loveless, controlling marriage and got to be happy for a long while, only to die before her time of cancer.

Happiness can paint you with its brush for a while, but it never lasts. He might as well just commit to the misery, because at least then he’ll never get his hopes up when something seemingly good comes into his life.

The wind chimes ringing off one another alerts him to the door opening, and maybe one day he’ll hear it and not briefly be expecting his mother to walk in. It’s Hen, who is here all the time, so that’s not really surprising at all on its lonesome. What is a surprise is who she’s with-- a friend of hers (presumably) he’s never met before, which is a little odd because he knows all of Hen’s friends.

But, he supposes, things have been changing at rapid pace lately, ever since his mom died and he left the 118.

This other woman is gorgeous, with long, loosely curled brown hair, big brown eyes, and oh, there’s a definitely noticeable baby bump and a wedding ring on her finger. Remember what he said about some people just not getting to be happy?

“This is Maddie,” Hen says, as if that explains everything and she must see the confusion on his face because she rolls her eyes and continues, “Buck’s sister, remember? I told you his sister and her husband just moved to town like, last week, you airhead.”

“Ah,” he nods, and yeah, he half remembers that but he wasn’t really paying complete attention to her because he tries to drone out anything tangentially work related because the jealousy hurts too much, “nice to meet you, Maddie.”

“Nice to meet you, too Chim-- Howie, nice to meet you, Howie,” she says with a shy smile, before her cheeks flush red with embarrassment, “I, um, I’ve been craving cake…”

Her hands move down to her belly, and he can’t help but smile.

“And Hen said you guys have the best cake, and all different kinds…” she finishes, a little pout on her lips and he really shouldn’t be thinking about how cute and endearing she is, because she’s Buck’s sister and she’s both pregnant and _married_ , but here he is because he’s a glutton for punishment.

“I-I uh yeah,” he says nervously, and Hen rolls her eyes so he’s assuming how flustered he’s feeling is just blatantly radiating off him, “all different kinds. My mother’s recipes, all of them.”

“That’s sweet,” she smiles, with a hint of sadness to it, so he can only assume Hen rather wisely informed her of his mother’s passing as not to accidentally initiate any awkward, painful conversations, “do you have decaf coffee? I already had my one cup a day of _real _coffee earlier and-- no, wait, scratch that. Decaf coffee is just depressing and makes me miss what I can’t actually have. Do you have herbal tea?”__

__“Lots of different kinds,” he laughs, pointing to one of the menu boards behind him, “so, how are you liking LA so far?”_ _

__“Well, the traffic has exceeded my expectations, and I experienced my first earthquake, and I guess my baby technically did, too. So I’d say we’re all pretty settled in already.”_ _

__All. All, meaning Maddie, unborn child, and _husband_ , he reminds himself._ _

__If he remembers correctly from when he was half-listening to Hen, no one really likes her husband-- not her brother, not the rest of the 118 that’s met him-- but married is married, whether her spouse is a popular guy or not._ _

__“Yeah, I’d get used to the earthquakes, and the traffic. LA has a lot of perks to it, but those two are not among them, though they are constants.”_ _

__“You’re funny,” she laughs with a snort, and he wishes he didn’t feel the immediate rush of butterflies in his stomach, “can I get a medium chamomile tea and a slice of… hmm… raspberry crumb cake? That sounds good to him.”_ _

__She gestures down to her stomach again._ _

__“Anything for you two,” he answers back immediately, and he’s not looking at her but he can practically feel Hen rolling her eyes._ _

__“And I’ll get what I usually get. If you don’t have it memorized by now, you’re a horrible manager,” Hen teases, “almost wish you were that terrible so you’d have to fire yourself and come back to the 118.”_ _

__“Hen, I have a replacement now. It’s not like I could just walk through the doors and come back any day that I wake up and decide that I want to.”_ _

__“Bobby would find a place for you, you know that. You’re our family and you’re meant to be with us, doing what you love, not…” she trails off, waving a hand around, gesturing across the room._ _

__“I’ll think about it,” he replies, not because he actually will, but because Maddie is standing right there and she’s so pretty and sweet and he doesn’t want to come across as cranky and rude for saying what he _actually_ wants to say to Hen._ _

__“Thank you,” Maddie says earnestly when he hands her the cup and her cake in a to-go bag, “I’d stay and chat more, but I start the night shift in a few hours and have a few errands I have to take care of before them, but everything here smells so good that I’m sure I’ll be back. Pregnancy and cravings and all that, you know.”_ _

__“I’ll be here,” he smirks, waving at her as she pats Hen on the shoulder before practically prancing out of the bakery._ _

__“Stop flirting with Buck’s pregnant, married sister,” Hen scolds, gently smacking him upside the head._ _

__“I wasn’t flirting!”_ _

__“You so were,” she shakes her head, rolling her eyes yet again, “her husband’s a jerk but--”_ _

__“What do you mean?”_ _

__“Nope, no, I am not giving you ammunition for getting your hopes up.”_ _

__“I wasn’t--”_ _

__“You were,” she scoffs, “how long have we been best friends? I can read you like a book. No, she’s off limits. But Karen and I have been dying to set you up with--”_ _

__“I don’t wanna be set up. My mother just died, I’m not looking to date. Okay, maybe I flirted with Buck’s sister a little, but it doesn’t matter, alright? I’m not looking for any relationship right now. I’m… I’m lost, Hen.”_ _

__“Yeah, that’s clear to me,” she replies sharply, but the sympathy is clear on her face, “but okay, I won’t give you a rough time, I’m sorry. Besides, she is really pretty.”_ _

__“Who’s hitting on her now?”_ _

__“Shut the fuck up, you idiot.”_ _


	2. Chapter 2

Maddie comes cheerfully bounding in the next morning right when the bakery opens, with more pep in her step than any pregnant nurse who just got off the night shift should have.

It makes him smile.

He can’t help but notice that her scrubs make her belly seem smaller than it had the day before with their looseness, but she’s still noticeably pregnant. He wonders if she’s maybe about six months along? Not that it should really matter all that much to him.

“Hey, back so soon?” he asks as casually as she can, the light in her eyes making his lips twitch with the urge to smile even wider.

“Wanted to try out the coffee here. Came in the morning so I can have my one cup of the day,” she says with a little huff, one hand on her stomach.

“Yeah, I could never be pregnant. I love coffee too much-- that, and you know, I don’t exactly have the right anatomy for it.”

“You’re funny,” she chuckles, repeating the sentiment from the day before, and oh God, he might be a little in love.

Well, he’s only met her once before so _in love_ might be too strong of a sentiment, but he’s 35 and “having a crush on her” seems a little too juvenile of a way to categorize it. No, he’s too old for _crushes_.

“Oooh, you have bagels?” she squeals, eyes lighting up even more as she eyes the menu board behind her, and yeah, he’s definitely a little in love.

“Only the finest for the pregnant women of this city,” he replies and he immediately feels stupid for saying it, for borderline flirting with a married pregnant woman, but Maddie is smiling brighter and laughing more heartily and it’s maybe the first time he’s felt his heart swell in a good way since his mother passed.

“Okay, okay, umm… I’ll take a small coffee, black, and a plain bagel with strawberry cream cheese, and a red velvet cupcake for later… and by later I probably mean in like thirty minutes, because my baby makes me hungry all the fricking time.”

“Does he have a name yet?” he asks unthinkingly, it just coming back, and he feels stupid and awkward again and also kind of rude, because they’ve only just met and it’s probably far too personal and invasive of a thing to ask her.

But if she’s offended, she doesn’t show it.

“No, no, I’m a little indecisive,” she shakes her head, still smiling, “there are a couple of names that I like, though…”

Her smile turns to a frown, her brow furrowed and her eyes sad as she bites her lip, presumably deciding if she should say what’s on her mind or not.

“My husband and I can’t seem to agree. The names I like, he doesn’t.”

“Ah,” is all he can really think to say, and something about the way her demeanor changes when she mentions her husband just doesn’t sit right with him. She seems… worried, and tense in a way that seems a little much for a simple argument about a baby’s name, which he can only assume is a common thing for expecting couples that shouldn’t bring her so much trouble.

Or maybe he’s just seeing things that aren’t there because he can’t have her and his mind is in denial, trying to imagine marital problems.

He feels a bit like a jerk, and a bit like a creep.

“I’m sure we’ll come to an agreement eventually,” she sighs after a tense silence, “besides, we’ve got a few more months until the baby makes his grand entrance into the world.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you two will figure it out.”

The frown remains on her face, before she shakes her head and suddenly slaps a smile on her face-- one far less genuine than before-- as if she’s remembered where she is, and that she’s talking to someone who is still practically a stranger.

She slides her card through the register slot, and if she notices that he only charged her for the bagel and the cupcake and not the cup of coffee, she doesn’t say anything.

(Pregnant women are already making enough sacrifices to bring their children into the world, he thinks, the one measly cup of caffeine a day that they’re permitted should be free.)

“For here or to go?”

“For here, I should be getting home…”

And there’s that flash of sadness in her eyes, the fear on her face… real or completely imagined by him.

It’s quiet and awkward while he’s fixing up her bagel and coffee for her, and then carefully packaging up her cupcake. Again, maybe he’s seeing things that aren’t there, but he can’t help but think that the bringing up of one’s spouse shouldn’t make such uneasiness appear.

Hen did say he was a jerk who no one liked… What was his name again, Doug? Total douchebag name.

“Bye, Howie,” Maddie says once her food is ready, a ghost of a smile on her face once more, “it was good seeing you again. I’m sure I’ll be back soon.”

“Can’t wait.”

There’s a loneliness that washes over him as soon as she’s out the door, and he can’t help but feel like an overly emotional loser for it.

He’s 35, an actual adult nearing middle age, and here he is all sappy and sad because the girl he likes just left his bakery.

The girl he likes who is having a baby with her husband.

Her husband who doesn’t like any of the baby names she’s come up with.

Whatever, he thinks the woman doing all the baby growing and then pushing out of the baby should get the final say in the child’s name. He’s sure her husband should be able to come around to _one_ of the names on the list she’s come up with.

He doesn’t even know what any of those names are, but he’s sure they’re nice, just like her.

...God, this woman has turned him into a pathetic little middle schooler in the span of less than even twenty-four hours. He’s screwed.

He wonders if he can blame it on the grief; how lost he is. He’s not happy, he has little to no idea of what he’s doing, and he knows he’s not coping well at all. So maybe he’s hanging too much potential joy and lightheartedness on a stupid crush on a very pretty girl.

Maybe that’s all it is: displacement.

Still, he can’t shake the feeling that something is special about her, and he can’t deny the twitching of his heart and the butterflies in his stomach when she’s around him, which feel… genuine.

Maybe he’s an idiot, but maybe he’s an idiot with real feelings for this woman that he hardly knows.

The icing on the metaphorical cake of it all is that she’s Buck’s sister.

Maybe he hates Hen a little for bringing her into his bakery, and maybe she was right the day before when she slapped him upside the day for flirting with Maddie.

Maddie… he wonders what it’s short for… Madeleine? Madison? He feels like a middle schooler again for even wondering.

He has no business thinking about her when she’s not physically in front of him as a customer, he has no business trying to decipher her full name, and he certainly has no business speculating on the state of her marriage.

Still, here he is, doing all of those things.

Great.

He’s a grade A middle school idiot.


	3. Chapter 3

.

Maddie sighs, turning the key in the lock knowing that Doug is off of work today and that he’ll likely be sitting at the kitchen table to confirm that she came straight home from work. The coffee cup and bagel will tip him off that she didn’t, but usually he can accept that.

 _Usually_. 

She wishes this wasn’t her life more than anything but it is, and now that she’s pregnant she feels the need to “comply” more than ever because it’s not just her that could get hurt. She had hoped that the baby inside of her, that having his baby inside of her would make him at least a little more gentle with her. It hasn’t, and she’s filled with anxious dread that something will show up _wrong_ at every ultrasound.

“That same bakery again?” Doug asks, raising an eyebrow but at least his tone seems calm and neutral, though he’s tricked her before, “weren’t you just there yesterday?”

“Yes, but, I wanted to try the coffee,” she says evenly, “and I couldn’t yesterday because I had already had my one cup of the day.”

“You know, you really shouldn’t be risking even having any coffee at all. I always tell you that.”

“You’re right,” she agrees, because that’s generally the easiest option, “it’s just hard, you know? 12 hour shifts when I’m more tired than usual because of the baby.”

“I told you, you should be working less.”

“I’d miss it,” she says carefully, flinching when he gets up from his chair.

“You’re pregnant. You should be working less.”

“You’re right,” she nods, hoping to just brush past him and head to the bedroom for some much needed sleep but he grabs her arm, not too harshly but she’s stopped enjoying his touch a long time ago.

“Maddie, you never listen to me. You can’t just tell me that I’m right but turn around and ignore all of my advice. That’s not being a good partner.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry--”

“What did I just say?” he asks, this time full on yanking on her arm when she tries to walk away, “stop telling me that I’m right. Stop telling me that you’re sorry. Just do better.”

“I will,” she nods, hating the tears that spring in her eyes because she’s already spent far too many tears on him over the years, “can I go sleep now please? I worked the overnight shift…”

“Yeah, go sleep. It’s the least you could do for our unborn child considering you won’t cut down on your work hours.”

.

Chimney arrives home after another long day at the bakery that he entirely hated other than the five minutes that he got to spend with Maddie, completely expecting the apartment to be empty other than his beloved dog Rex.

He rolls his eyes when he sees Hen on the couch, Rex in her lap. Yeah, he gave her a key because she’s his best friend and they thought it would be a good idea in case of any potential emergencies.

Hen’s relaxed demeanor on his living room couch lets him know that this is not, in fact, an emergency.

“To what do I owe the honor, Hen?” he asks sarcastically, huffing at her, “and stop stealing my dog.”

“Dogs are in tune with their human’s feelings, and he knows you’re miserable so he’d rather be surrounded by my much more pleasant vibes.”

“Hen. Why are you here?”

“That’s no way to treat your best friend.”

“You know I love you,” he says, rolling his eyes, “but usually I expect a call or a text before you come over so I don’t get scared by someone’s presence in my home when I’m expecting it to be empty.”

“When are you coming back to work?”

He groans, rolling his eyes a third time because really, he can’t do this again, not right now.

“Henrietta. How many times have I told you to drop it?”

“And how many times have I told you that I’m not going to?” she counters, “you’re making yourself miserable and I don’t like it. And neither does Rex.”

“Rex is fine,” he huffs, and oh, there go his eyes rolling a fourth time.

“I mean, come on, Chim? Is this all really worth it? Is all the sadness in your eyes and waking up each day to go work a job you hate worth it? Can’t you see the toll that this is all taking on you?”

“No, Hen, I’m oblivious to my own suffering,” he says bitterly, glaring her at a second before he softens, because it’s Hen and he knows that she’s objectively right and he can’t blame his best friend for wanting him to stop causing himself pain.

It doesn’t mean he’s ready to let go of his own tangible connection left to his mom, yet, or his guilt over her death.

“I want you to be happy, and so would your mother.”

Again, he knows that she is correct. His mom had told him several times in the days leading up to her passing, before she was sleeping through most of it, that she wanted him to do his best to find joy, even in her absence. That she loved him and only wanted the best for him.

“You were happier as a firefighter paramedic, doing a job that you love,” Hen continues, and once more, she is absolutely correct.

But he doesn’t want to recognize it, so he deflects.

“So that’s why you broke into my home? To beg me to come back from the 118?”

“It’s not breaking in if you gave me a key.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Well, not just that. Also wanted to see my nephew. My dog nephew, that is, since you refuse to give me a human one.”

“Oh my god, you’re worse than my mom always begging me for grandchildren,” he groans, before a horrible sadness and guilt overwhelm him because he never was able to give her that, never able to give her the joy of grandchildren even though he was 35 when she died.

Just another way that he’s failed her.

Hen must pick up on the frown on his lips and tears in her eyes because she’s gently shifting Rex off her lap and coming forward to put an arm around his shoulders.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“Not your fault,” he sniffles, and God, he hates that there’s not been a single day since his mother died that he’s been able to get through without crying at least once, “I’m a mess.”

“You’re not a mess,” Hen sighs, pulling him in for a hug, “it’s okay. Cry if you need to, I’ve got you.”

“I’m a m-mess,” he repeats, burying his face in the crook of her neck, “m’a mess, H-Hen.”

“Shh, shh,” she hums, rubbing his back, “you’re grieving, and you’re a little lost right now, but that’s okay. I’ll help you find your way back. It’s all going to be okay, Chim.”

Yeah, he really wishes that he could believe her.


	4. Chapter 4

Chim wakes up with that sort of headache that comes from crying too much the night before, which has become all too familiar to him as of late. He sighs, not yet opening his eyes before he feels a cold nose against the side of his face and the reverberations of a thumping of a tail against the mattress.

“Good morning, Rex.”

He rolls over, keeping his eyes shut and hoping to drift back to sleep because his alarm hasn’t gone off, but then Rex is whining and licking at his cheek and correction: his _phone_ alarm hasn’t gone off yet.

His dog alarm absolutely has.

“Fine, fine, I’m awake,” he grumbles, rolling out of bed unceremoniously, which makes Rex hop off not long behind him, grabbing the tennis ball from the corner of the room in excitement, “I thought I was a morning person, but you buddy, are incredible.”

Having a dog has been helpful, he thinks-- beyond helpful-- in more ways than one. Hen had all but insisted that he adopt one in the weeks following his mother’s passing, because she loved him but of course has her own wife and kid and can’t be over there all the time, and she worried that the apartment would be far too lonely for him without anyone there.

Well, it’s still far too lonely without his mother living there with him anymore, but with Rex it’s less so than it would have been.

But right now, Chimney is most thankful for his dog’s persistence in getting his ass out of his bed. Those are the hardest, he thinks, the mornings. It’s difficult to convince himself that getting out of his bed is worth it when his mother is gone and he’s working a job he hates. Knowing that running the bakery is keeping her passion project alive helps, certainly, but sometimes an annoyingly energetic dog who wants his food and morning walk is more urgent of a trigger to get his legs moving and his feet on the ground.

It is very hard to fall back asleep when your face is being licked and someone is excitedly whining at you.

“Hen was right,” he mumbles to himself, fumbling around for his shoes when he jumps at the sound of an unexpected voice.

“Hen is always right.”

“Jesus, Hen!” he shouts, and she must be enjoying it a little because she laughs, “uh, warn me next time, maybe?”

“Warn you, how?” she snorts, “I slept over, you idiot. Did you not remember?”

“No,” he huffs, “too early to remember things like that.”

“Too early?” she asks, another snort, “Chimney, sweetie, it’s 7 in the morning. When you worked at the 118, we’d be starting shifts at--”

“Yeah, yeah, but I don’t anymore. Gonna go take my dog out for a walk before you can harass me more about coming back to work.”

“I’ll stop harassing you the moment you give in!” she shouts as he opens the door and slips out, and God, he really hopes his neighbors are asleep because if they aren’t, he can only imagine what they’re thinking is going on in his apartment right now.

Hen, annoying as she can be about coming back to work, is a bit of a godsend. There’s breakfast on the table when he and Rex come back, and he wishes the first thing he feels is gratefulness instead of guilt, because Hen always tells him not to feel guilty, but it’s the guilt that sets in first.

She had slept over, and not for the first time since his mother died. She hadn’t wanted to be alone, in case he woke up needing more comfort after he already spent the majority of the evening a blubbering mess, and now she’s cooked for him. Things he knows she does because she’s worried about him not sleeping or eating enough, or just not taking good enough care of himself in _any_ conceivable way, and she’s probably right.

(He hasn’t even said it out loud and he can practically hear her telling him that she’s _always_ right again.)

“Eat up.”

“You don’t have a shift today?” he asks, though it’s more of a statement because she’d likely already be out of the door already if she did.

“Well, technically it starts today, but not until late. Overnight.”

“Ah, fun times,” he says, immediately regretting it after because he assumes she’ll use it as another segway into pestering him to go back to being a firefighter, but she lets him have peace, if only just this once. 

“You have a shift today, though. You have a shift everyday except for Sundays at the same exact time because your life is boring.”

Okay, spoke (thought) too soon. Didn’t directly tell him to come back, but she isn’t really letting him have peace either.

Maddie comes strolling into the bakery about an hour after it opens, though, and a large part of him wants to text Hen that ha, she’s wrong, not everything about his life is boring now. There’s this beautiful, sweet, kind, charming customer who--

And then he remembers that Maddie is both married and pregnant and Hen has quite literally smacked him over the head for flirting with her before, so if he sends that text message she’ll probably stop by before her overnight shift starts to throw something at him.

So he doesn’t text her, but still. He isn’t bored at the current moment.

“Hi, Maddie.”

“Hi, Howie,” she smiles, and she’s in scrubs so she must be working today, though they’re a different color than the day before. Pink today. Lovely and bright, just like her.

(Oh God, somebody please kill him for even thinking that.)

“What can I get for you today? And you know, him,” he half-jokes, gesturing to her belly and she throws her head back as she laughs, in that way that he already loves so much.

“Hmmm. Give us a second.”

“You two take all the time you need.”

It’s a slow morning and she doesn’t start work for another hour, so he winds up sitting at a table across from her, both of them sipping on coffee and nibbling on muffins. Maddie had chosen banana chocolate chip, supposedly because her baby makes her crave all things chocolate, and he had told her that she must be having a smart baby because banana chocolate chip is his favorite.

It’s another moment where he feels stupid as soon as he says it, but Maddie laughs, so maybe she doesn’t think so.

“What made you and your-- what made you decide to move to LA?” he asks, hating how her eyes narrow just at the implication that he’s about to mention her husband, so he hastily changes his words.

He admittedly knows nothing about marriage, but he feels pretty confident in saying that it shouldn’t be like that.

But then again, maybe he’s just imagining things…

“Wanted to be near my baby brother,” she says sheepishly, “been begging him for ages to let us… for us to move closer to him.”

“...Oh?”

“Yeah, Buck’s the member of my family that I’m closest to, but I know he’s probably mentioned… we fell out of contact for a while and I’m sure Buck probably told you about that, so you must think… I love my little brother, okay? Things just got complicated for a bit.”

“I don’t think anything like what you’re probably thinking I am about you,” he says earnestly, trying to meet her eye as she’s suddenly transfixed by the crumbs on her plate, “I just think you’re great. And I know Buck talks about how much he adores you and how happy he is that you’re here now, so that’s all that matters to me.”

“Really? You’re not just saying that? Because I was so hesitant to meet everyone, everyone from the 118, worried that you all would think…”

“We don’t, I don’t. We’re just… it’s like Buck. We’re all happy that you’re here now.”

“You’re sweet,” she sighs wistfully, a sad smile on her face before it’s as if she’s suddenly _forcing_ herself to perk up, “well, now that I’ve finally convinced Doug to let us move to LA, maybe I can finally convince him to let us get a dog, too.”

“He doesn’t like dogs?” Chim asks, hoping the disgust he feels isn’t too clear in his voice.

“No, well, he’s allergic,” Maddie says, and maybe he’s imagining things again, but she seems sort of like she doesn’t really believe what she’s saying, “what about you? Do you have a dog?”

“I do,” he can’t help but grin, “and uh, not spoil the magic of this whole place, but sometimes I bring him here when I’m working.”

“Wait, you do?” she practically squeals, eyes lighting up and God, she needs to stop being the cutest thing he’s ever seen.

“Yeah, yeah, I do. Maybe if you keep coming by…”

“Well, I already was going to for the muffins and the cake, but now that I know there’s a doggie here sometimes? Oh, you’re going to be getting sick of me.”

“I don’t know about that,” he smiles coyly, or at least he hopes it’s coyly. It’s probably not, and she probably knows how helplessly gone for her that he is, but at least she’s not polite enough to mention it.

She just asks to see pictures of his dog.

See, Hen? This morning? Not boring at all.


	5. Chapter 5

Chimney has another headache. This time it’s from stress, not crying. Regardless, it’s not a pleasant feeling and even though Dianna’s has only been open for about two hours, he’s already counting down until he gets to go home.

Rex whimpers, rubbing up against his leg, as if he can pick up on his owner’s discontent and discomfort. 

(According to Hen, he absolutely can.)

“It’s okay, buddy. Daddy is just… tired.”

(It’s an understatement, both physically and mentally.)

He sort of hates how he perks up the moment _Maddie_ and Hen come strolling through the bakery doors, his headache quickly forgotten.

“Hi, welcome to Dianna’s,” he murmurs cheerfully, and oh God, Hen must be on to him because she’s looking at him with a glare that says hey, I know you’re not so happy to see _me_ and I thought I told you stop flirting with Buck’s pregnant married sister.

“Howie! You brought your dog!” Maddie squeals gleefully, and he’s not looking at her anymore but he can practically feel Hen’s eyes shooting lasers at him.

“Told you I would,” he smirks, laughing as Rex very excitedly goes running towards both his beloved Aunt Hen and this new pretty stranger.

“Hi, Rex,” Maddie giggles, kneeling down as best as she can with her baby belly, giggling even more when Rex puts his paws up to “stand” up tall so he can lick at her face.

“Hey, buddy, off--”

“No, no,” Maddie shakes her head, still laughing, “let him. I like it!”

“Okie dokie.”

“Okie dokie?” Hen whispers under her breath, raising her eyebrows at him because when the hell on Earth has he ever said those words before?

(Whatever, it’s not like Hen is going to get to lecture him until later when it’s just the two of them-- she’s mad but she’s not going to take him to ask over it in front of Maddie. He’s just going to ignore her anger for the time being and enjoy Maddie’s presence.)

“How long have you had him?” Maddie asks, patting the top of Rex’s head a few times.

“Just a few months,” he answers as casually as he can, wondering if Maddie gets the implication there, that he adopted a dog after his mother died, “he’s uh, he’s a rescue. We met and we just instantly clicked.”

“I can see why, he’s such a good boy,” Maddie coos, and he’s glad that her attention is on Rex and solely Rex so she can’t see the way he’s staring at her adoringly. He’s _trying_ not to, but it’s no use. He can’t remember the last time he felt this way about someone-- maybe at the very beginning with Tatianna? There was definitely infatuation there, but then again, he doesn’t think it was quite like this.

He thinks back to the words he just said about Rex, how he met him and the two of them just clicked. He feels the same way with Maddie, well, almost the same way, of course, because Rex is a dog and Maddie is a human being. A very sweet, very beautiful, very endearing human being.

Looking at her playing with his dog, he tries to pretend that just for a moment that it isn’t complicated, that isn’t forbidden. That she doesn’t have a husband (that nobody likes, but still a husband) at home or his baby growing inside of her.

Try as he might, he can’t fully forget. He supposes that’s a good thing, really, because the more he daydreams, the more painful the reality is going to be.

He learned that the hard way throughout his mother’s battle with cancer. When things started to get noticeably… unpromising, he’d let his mind run off sometimes, imagining her and making a full and miraculous recovery.

It only made her admission into hospice care that much more soul shatteringly heartbreaking.

And oh, there go his eyes welling up again, and he turns away for a second, wiping at his eyes and willing a smile onto his face.

“How are you today?” Hen asks carefully, and he both loves and hates how nothing ever seems to get past her.

“I’m alright,” he shrugs, smiling more genuinely again when he glances over at Maddie who is still enamored with Rex, and judging by the glare returning to Hen’s face, that doesn’t get past her either.

“Okay, okay, good boy,” Maddie hums, standing up straight again and making her way to the counter, biting her lip as she peruses the menu boards with her eyes, a very serious look on her face.

God, she’s so-- no, no, he’s not going to finish that thought because he’s not twelve years old.

“Mmmm I’ll have the lemon cake because both Hen and Buck always tell me that it’s the best.”

“Ah, wise choice. My favorite, too,” he sighs wistfully, thinking about how it was his mother’s favorite, too, and God, he wonders when he’ll be able to get through a day without practically every other thought he has being related to his mother. Maybe someday it’ll feel nice, but right now it just hurts.

“Aaaaand a cup of coffee, saved up my caffeine for you,” Maddie grins, and maybe he’s hallucinating it, but he thinks she just batted his eyelashes at him? He can feel the heat rising in his cheeks, and he doesn’t dare look at Hen’s face when he asks her what she wants.

“The usual,” Hen replies, enunciating each syllable with frightening precision, “and ring me and Maddie up the same. My treat.”

“No, you don’t have to--”

“I want to,” Hen shakes her head, “you’re still pretty new to LA, so enjoy it on me.”

“But--”

“Just let her,” Chimney shrugs, more than willing to not let Maddie pay a single cent for her coffee or cake.

He’s so focused on Maddie flusteredly thanking Hen while he rings them up that he doesn’t even register the familiar sound of the wind chimes playing as the door swings open.

“I thought you said you were going to the grocery store?”

He can hear Maddie’s breath hitch as her body freezes, and he knows who it is without even having to ask despite never having met him.

“I-I am,” she murmurs, slapping a smile on her face before she turns to face him, “just ran into Hen on my way and she said she was coming here and asked if I wanted to pop by with her before I went shopping.”

Hen nods easily, looking Doug up and down before turning to Maddie and doing the same with her.

“I see,” Doug says, and he sounds calm but noting the tension in Maddie’s body, Chimney doesn’t think she trusts it, “you sure must love this place. This what, the third time you’ve been here in a week?”

“It’s good,” Maddie says as casually as she can, widening her smile.

“I just wanted to pick her brain about something medical, actually sort of dragged her here,” Hen cuts in, “you know, as a paramedic, I often wonder what exactly goes on once we wheel certain patients into the ER.”

Chimney nods his head emphatically, before noting the confusion on Maddie’s husband’s face and stammering out an explanation.

“I-I uh, used to be a paramedic.”

“Got it. And now you work here?”

Rex barks, and Chimney bets if asked Hen, she’d say that he was just picking up on and responding to all of the tension.

“I um, I’m going to be on my way, go get our groceries,” Maddie says quickly, rushing to stuff the bagged up cake into her purse.

“I’ll come with you.”

“You’re not going to get anything?” Hen asks, raising an eyebrow, and Chimney can tell her mind has gone to the exact same place his has: that Doug came here not for the food or coffee, but to keep tabs on his wife.

“Changed my mind.”

It’s silent, wordless until Maddie scrambles out of the bakery, Doug right behind her.

“He’s uh…” Chimney trails off, sighing as he shakes his head.

“I’m still not encouraging you,” Hen says pointedly, smacking his shoulder, “but, yeah, I told you. He’s a total jerk.”

Understatement.


	6. Chapter 6

.

“You need to stop.”

“Stop what?” he asks her, though he knows exactly what she is getting at.

“Chim, honey, she’s married,” Hen says impatiently, rolling her eyes in a way so emphatic the movement might very well be painful for her, “and not to mention that baby in her belly.”

“Her husband is a--”

“Her husband is terrible, I agree,” Hen sighs, shaking her head, “everyone agrees, but… she’s still married, and she’s having his baby. I hope she leaves him, really I do, and so does Buck but… what exactly are you expecting? She magically wakes up one day soon and decides to leave him, and then she falls into your arms and you become this baby’s new daddy?”

“I know it doesn’t work like that, Hen,” he says with a huff, “I’m not stupid.”

“Okay, so tell me how you _do_ expect this all to work itself out, huh?”

“...You’re right,” he sighs after a long moment, because everything that he thinks up sounds stupid and he knows there’s likely no happy ending for him here. It’s a painful truth but that’s exactly what it is, a truth.

He looks up at his best friend sadly, expecting to see a smug look on her face and for her to tell him yet again that she is always right, but all he can see in her eyes is sympathy.

“I just don’t want you to go through anymore heartbreak than you already have to, Chim. It hurts me to see you hurting.”

“I know,” he nods, because he does know that if it was the other way around, he’d be trying to talk some sense into her too, “believe me, I know. You’re right, of course you are, it’s just… nice to daydream sometimes, you know? To imagine…”

“Imagine all you want, but…”

“Imagination doesn’t change anything, I know.”

“I don’t want to see you hurt,” she reminds him again, reaching out to take his hand in hers, “so just try and let it go, okay? A little crush is fine, but please don’t get your hopes up.”

“I won’t,” he nods, but he’s lying of course, because he already _has_ gotten his hopes up, as much as he’s tried not to, and by the look on Hen’s face, she’s aware of this, too.

But she doesn’t call him on it, though, just moves her hand that’s not holding his to his cheek.

“You’re my favorite person besides my wife and kid,” she says seriously, “I just want you to be happy. So don’t go after a married woman and please come back to work.”

“Maybe… maybe one of those things, but both is asking too much” he jokes weakly, and heartfelt moment over, Hen is rolling her eyes again.

.

“You’re a liar,” Doug growls, checking around the grocery store parking lot for anyone watching before yanking her arm toward his car, “get in.”

“Doug, please--”

“Get in.”

She doesn’t want to, but her hand drops down to her stomach to remind herself of what’s at stake there before sighing and slipping into the passenger's seat, wincing when Doug locks the doors.

“You’re a liar, Maddie,” he repeats, looking around once more before tugging on her hair, “you said you were--”

“And I _was_ ,” she all but pleads, and God, she really hates that this is her life, “I just ran into Hen and we stopped into Dianna’s on the way.”

“Why are you hanging out with her so much now anyway? This is why I didn’t want us to move to LA, I knew you’d focus too much on your brother and his friends and that stupid fire station instead of what’s really important.”

“And what’s really important, Doug? You?” she snaps, even though she knows she shouldn’t. She knows she should just give in and accept whatever beration he has coming for her.

“No, Maddie, our marriage. What kind of selfish jerk do you think I am?”

A few years ago, the manipulation would’ve worked. She would have felt guilty, like he was right-- he was only trying to protect their marriage and that she should be spending less time on Buck and more time on him so that their relationship could work.

But she’s not the same person that she was a few years ago. She sees it for what it really is now: gaslighting. He is selfish, and he certainly is a jerk and there’s nothing wrong with having friends and family outside of her marriage. It’s healthy, actually.

But while she’s not the same person anymore, she’s still stuck in that same unhealthy marriage. She hates it, but she doesn’t see a way out. She’s pregnant, and what’s the alternative? She leaves him-- and even if he let her without violence, then what? She’s supposed to trust him not to abuse their kid the way he abuses her when he has him for the week? At least if they’re all in the same house, she can take the brunt of it, she can protect their son at least a little…

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, even though she’s really not, “I’m sorry, Doug.”

“I just don’t understand how we keep having this same argument,” he says, and she can hear the way his breath is picking up in anger and she’s hoping, she’s really hoping the altercation just stays verbal, “you always say you’re sorry, but then you don’t do better. My mother used to say--”

“How would your mother feel about you hitting me behind closed doors, just like your dad used to do to her?” she spits, and she regrets it the moment it’s out of her mouth, not because it’s not an _incredibly_ valid point, but because--

Her head goes banging against the glove box compartment, and she tastes the blood immediately.

“Don’t you ever bring up my father again,” he says calmly, too calmly, that sort of calm she’s learnt never to trust.

“I-I won’t,” she whimpers, already thinking about the bruises that are going to show up around both her eyes. She doesn’t think her nose is broken, just bleeding, so at least she has that going for her.

.

Chimney sighs when he walks through the door to his apartment, smiling when Rex sits patiently at his feet, waiting for him to take his leash off so he can roam free.

“There you go, buddy.”

He takes a seat at his kitchen table, putting his head down in his hands.

Maddie’s husband is a jerk, that he knows, but it reminds him of the way his dad interacted with his mom. His mother felt trapped in that relationship; he wonders if Maddie feels trapped, too.

Doug is objectively not a very nice person, that much is clear, but Chimney wonders if the echoes of the emotional abuse he’s seeing there are just reflections of his childhood trauma plus his crush on her, or if he’s actually seeing it for what it is. He can’t shake the memory of the possessiveness in Doug’s tone, but even if he’s right, even if Doug is controlling her, what is there that he can actually do?

If she’s being controlled, just like his mother was, it’s ultimately up to her when she leaves, and the fact that she’s having her husband’s baby certainly makes things complicated, but… if she’s in a bad situation, it would make _him _a jerk to look the other way, right?__

__He knows Hen’s right, that even if she does leave Doug, it’s not like she’s going to magically fall into his arms. He has no realistic expectation that they’ll ever be together, even if he _hopes_ that someday they will be (even though he knows he shouldn’t), but if she needs help, who is he to just ignore it when his mother went through something similar?_ _

__He knows there’s only so much he can do, but “so much” isn’t nothing and…_ _

__Then again, maybe he’s just seeing things._ _

__Maybe he’s losing his mind a little, and he wouldn’t be surprised if he was. He hasn’t felt like himself at all since his mother died._ _


	7. Chapter 7

Chimney more or less feels like he’s going insane.

His mom is gone, he’s working a job he hates and no one seems to understand why, and he keeps replaying his brief meeting with Maddie’s husband over and over again. He knows that tone of voice, he knows the way Maddie’s posture changed the second she realized her husband was there, he’s seen it all before.

It brings back memories of his mom, and not the kinds he wants to remember.

Memories of her backing down in arguments out of self preservation when she was clearly right, memories of his dad hurling untrue insults at her and her just taking it, memories of her lying for him, telling his father that _she_ was the one who broke the vase when it really had been him…

His mother had loved him enough to make his father’s wrath worse for her to protect him.

It makes him feel sick, thinking about Maddie and then the baby in her belly, a baby that Maddie might have to make sacrifices for that go outside the bounds of what parenting should be.

Or maybe he’s just imagining it.

He’s traumatized from his childhood, of that much he’s certain. And maybe he’s just… projecting.

Or maybe he’s right on the money.

He looks like crap, he knows he does, having spent the last two nights up replaying the memory of Doug and then memories of his own father over and over, and he feels too sick to try and choke down any breakfast even though Hen has been harping at him about having “three square meals a day” because he’s getting “too skinny.”

Can’t lose too much of his muscle or else it will be harder to come back to firefighting, she always says.

Oh, Hen. So relentless, always.

As much as seeing Maddie tends to be the highlights of his days, he’s half hoping that she doesn’t show up at the bakery that day, knowing he’ll just be anxiously over analyzing her behavior, using it as even more fuel for keeping him awake in the odd hours of the night when he should be sleeping.

But there she comes, looking beautiful as ever, but tired. Tired, a normal thing to feel when you’re a nurse who works long shifts, and also when you’re pregnant, he reminds himself, before his mind can already attach too much unnecessary meaning to it.

“Hi, Howie.”

“Hi, Maddie. Welcome to Dianna’s,” he says cheerfully, but it’s a bit more forced than it usually is and he can tell Maddie picks up on it by the pout on her lips.

“Are you feeling okay? You look a little… pale.”

“Oh, I’m fine, just tired? How are you feeling? You know, I’ve heard having a baby in your stomach sucking at your life force all the time is kind of tiring.”

“I’m alright,” she laughs, smiling though her eyes still seem a bit suspicious of him, “you’re funny as always, but are you sure you’re alright? Because, you know, if you’re sick then you really shouldn’t be handling food.”

She’s teasing him, but he can hear the concern behind her words and he hates that the fact that she _cares_ can help to instantly lift his mood.

“I’m fine, I promise. Just didn’t sleep well last night. What can I get for you?”

Maddie is so excited, just as she has been previously for her one cup of real coffee a day that it lightens him up even further, and then he grins even wider when she orders her muffin and then a piece of cake “for the baby.”

Again, if she notices that he only charges her for the food and not the coffee, she doesn’t say.

“I wish I could stay and chat for a bit,” she whines with that pout on her lips that he’s already decided he loves so much, “but I have work in a few hours, and I have things I need to do at home first…”

The second part seems reluctant, like maybe it’s not things she actually needs to get done, but things that _someone else_ \-- no, no, he stops himself mid thought. He’s not going to let him drive himself insane over things that aren’t obviously there-- at least not until he’s home and not at work.

The tension must show on his face, though, because Maddie is looking at him with concern and once again asking if he’s okay.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine, I promise.”

She moves the back of her hand to his forehead, and heat rushes to his cheeks that has nothing to do with a fever because he doesn’t actually have one, and has everything to do with her touch against his chin.

“No fever,” he murmurs, hating how his eyes close in content, before her hand is pulled back and they open and now he’s the one who’s pouting a bit, because apparently he is still a middle schooler.

“You’re right, you’re not warm,” she sighs, “but if something is wrong, you know you can tell me, right? We haven’t known each other very long, but… you can talk to me, if you want.”

“I-I know,” he stammers, taking a deep breath and willing himself to pull it together before he returns the sentiment, hoping she isn’t weirded out by just how… _earnest_ his tone is, “and you know that it’s the same for you, alright? You can tell me anything.”

“I know,” she replies, and he gathers up the courage to look directly into her eyes to make sure that she’s being sincere.

And that’s when he sees it: too bruises around her eyes covered with makeup. Well, mostly covered with makeup. In other lighting, she’d be good to go, but the overtly fluorescent lighting of the bakery that so often makes his stress headaches worse is unforgiving for hiding _anything/i >._

_Maddie has glanced over at the clock before the terror shows on his face, though, oblivious to the realization that he’s just had._

_“I really should get going,” she says, and this time he’s absolutely sure that he’s not imagining the nervousness in her voice, “so much cleaning to do…”_

_He almost opens up his mouth to say that since she’s carrying Doug’s child while working 12 hour nursing shifts, Doug should be the one doing the cleaning, but he doesn’t trust himself to mention her husband out loud at all at the moment._

_“O-Okay.”_

_The shakiness of his voice once again catches her attention, and quickly turns to the side so she can’t see the terror on his face, because he knows that he needs to regain his composure before he decides how to broach the subject with her._

_Now, in his state of panic and then rage toward her husband, is certainly not the time._

_“Howie? Are you sure you’re alright? Like, 100% sure? I-I really have to go but I can call Hen…”_

_“No, no, m’fine, just… think I might have left something in the oven a little too long. I-I’ll see you tomorrow,” he mumbles in a rush, not looking behind him as he rushes into the kitchen, practically slamming the door behind him._

_He slides down against the door, feeling his breathing start to hitch and his vision starting to blur._

_He can’t do this, he can’t do this._

_Except he has to do this, he knows he can’t ignore it and that Maddie needs help. Whether or not she accepts it isn’t up to him, but he knows he needs to offer it._

_He just doesn’t know what to do, doesn’t what to say, doesn’t know how to act._

_God, he wishes he could ask his mom._


	8. Chapter 8

.

“You seem like your mind is elsewhere,” Doug observes, and at least for the moment it seems innocent, “what are you thinking about that?”

The answer to that question is that she’s thinking about the man behind the counter at Dianna’s bakery, who seemed so very off that morning and wouldn’t tell her what was wrong. He had run off with a very obviously fake excuse and she had been so anxious to get home because Doug was expecting her that she couldn’t wait until he came back to push the matter any further.

She wishes she had his phone number so she could follow up with him, and tomorrow is Sunday and the bakery is closed, so she’ll have to wait until Monday to ask him again if she’s alright. At least she has Hen’s number and had left a voicemail politely asking her to check on her best friend.

Her very cute, sweet best friend Howie.

“Maddie?”

Fuck, she had been lost in thought, and she knows Doug is going to interpet that as having something to hide. And maybe she does have something to hide, just a little. Howie is cute and charming and sweet and compassionate and she’d be lying if she said she hasn’t felt her heart flutter a few times for him… but then again she’s trapped in an abusive man and pregnant with his child, so nothing is ever going to happen there.

So nothing to hide.

“Sorry, just tired.”

“You wouldn’t be so tired if you’d just lower your hours at work like I’ve been telling you to. You know, for the good of our unborn son.”

“Our son is fine,” she says quietly, hating how meek she sounds, “our son who still doesn’t have a name. Are you sure you don’t--”

“None of the names you’ve come up with are good enough.”

“Nothing I do is good enough,” she grumbles to herself, because she knows that is exactly what her husband thinks.

“What was that?”

“I have work in a few hours, and I love my job,” she says as calmly as she can, deciding to test the waters as to what sort of mood he is in today, “and you know the saying-- a happy mom is a good mom. The happier I am, the happier our son will be too.”

“Yeah, but not if his mother’s not home with him.”

She WANTS to point out that he works more odd hours than she does as a surgeon, sometimes being called in spur of the moment for emergency surgeries, but she knows that’s only going to end in more bruises, verbal or otherwise.

“The good thing about shift work is there will be full days where I’m not working, you know that,” she says instead, turning her back to him as if out of sight, out of mind is going to work on her husband.

“Maddie--”

“I don’t want to fight. Can we just be happy right now? We were so happy just a few minutes before.”

(Well, he was.”

“Yeah,” he sighs after a long moment, coming over to her and tilting her head up to look at him with his fingers-- it takes every ounce of will power she has not to upset him by flinching back, “yes. We’re having a baby, so let’s be happy, Madeline. I love you.”

“I love you, too,” she lies. God, she’s become such a good liar.

.

Chimney wakes up to the comforting feeling of fingers carding through his hair. It’s nice and he leans into the touch, even though he should probably be wary because when he fell asleep, no one else was in his apartment other than his dog. But he’s too tired, still about 80% asleep and he doesn’t question it, just sighs in content.

“Hi, Chim,” a familiar voice murmurs soothingly, and ah, he was right to not be afraid. It’s just Hen, and one day they’ll have to have a conversation about her just using her key to get into his apartment whenever she wants, but right now her touch feels nice and he’s not going to complain at all.

“Hen… when?” 

His sleepy mind can’t put together a full sentence, but his best friend knows exactly what he means to say.

“Been here about an hour, sleepyhead. You must have just crashed on the couch as soon as you got home.”

Ah, and there comes the memory. He had been so panicked and upset all day, just suppressing the dread just enough throughout his whole shift at the bakery enough to serve customers and it had drained him of all his energy. He barely had it in him to make it to his couch after dragging himself up the stairs of his apartment complex.

And then he remembers exactly why he was such an anxious mess in the first place and all his muscles tighten as practically jumps up into a sitting position, letting out a whimper.

“Hey, hey, you’re alright,” Hen hums, eyes full of concern, “Maddie asked me to come check on you, said you were pretty upset earlier but wouldn’t tell her what’s wrong. But I’m your best friend, so I know you’re going to tell me, of course.”

“M-Maddie… I,” he trailers off breathlessly, punctuated with a sharp inhale that’s a little physically painful.

“Easy, easy, Chim,” Hen cautious, sliding onto the couch and wrapping an arm around him, “I need you to take a couple of deep breaths for me, okay? In and out, in and out, you can do it, honey…”

“Hen,” he whimpers, the tears he had been holding back all day finally starting to fall, “H-Hen, he’s hurting her.”

“Who is hurting who?” Hen asks, confused and a little scared.

“M-Maddie, he’s hurting her, her h-husband,” he cries shakily, hating how weak he is as he buries his head in Hen’s shoulder, because Maddie is the one suffering, not him, “s-saw the bruises on her eyes. Tried t-to cover them up but… saw a-and he’s so possessive a-and…”

He’s cut off by a sob, and he feels Hen’s other arm wrapping around him and pulling her closer to him as she tucks his head under her chin. She doesn’t say a single word for a long while, she shushes him and rubs his back, letting him cry it out until the harsh sobs are deduced to soft sniffles and whimpers.

She pulls back a little to try and get a good look at his face, and he’s half expecting her to tell him that he’s reading too much into things or that he’s jumping to faulty conclusions or letting his feelings for Maddie cloud his judgment.

He wouldn’t be surprised if Hen just straight up told him that he was crazy.

But she doesn’t. She’s frowning, a pained, almost scared look in her eyes.

“Chim, honey… I think you might be right. It makes sense, I think, as much as I would like for it not to.”

“Y-You believe me?” he asks, hating how small and pathetic his voice sounds.

“I know what your father was like growing up,” she says gently, rubbing his back some more, “and you’re smart and I trust your judgment and… if you saw bruises, you saw bruises.”

“You believe me,” he repeats, this time as an awestruck statement rather than a question.

He’s relieved, he’s relieved for about fifteen seconds that his best friend believes him and he’s not hallucinating things or completely lost his mind.

And then the dread is back, because this means it’s real, that it’s actually happening, and that Maddie is being hurt at the hands of the one person who is supposed to love her the most.

And he has no idea what to do about it.


	9. Chapter 9

.

Chimney has another headache from crying.

He’s momentarily confused when he wakes up in bed when he remembers crying himself to sleep on the couch before he surmises that Hen must have briefly woken up to make him move to bed before she left for her shift.

It’s Sunday, which means he only has to get up for the purpose of caring for Rex and not running the bakery, so at least he has the going for him. Rex, who is crawling towards him on the bed, and Chimney just knows there’s going to be a wet nose in his face sometime within the next thirty seconds.

“Hey, buddy,” he murmurs halfheartedly, wincing at how cracked and raw his voice is.

Maddie is in danger; her husband is hurting her and by extension their unborn child that rests in her stomach.

He has know idea how to help her, or how to even broach the subject with her. The bakery, a public place, even if no other customers are in there at the time doesn’t seem like the best location to say, “hey, I know your husband is beating you.”

So how else does he go about it? Does he ask to see her outside of his workplace sometime? But that might sound like he’s coming onto her, and even if she doesn’t see it that way, her possessive husband might, and decide he needs to punish her for it…

It feels like there’s no right answer and maybe that’s objectively true, but he knows he can’t just do nothing. He needs to at the very least reach out to her and offer a listening ear or more concrete help should she ever want to accept it, both for her sake and her son’s.

Memories of his father berating his mother swirl around in his head, memories of the fear he’d see in her eyes and he can’t even imagine what it feels like to see your father bruise your mother with more than just words. 

He wishes it was simple. He wishes he could tell her that she should leave and for her to agree and start making a plan to do so, but he knows it’s far more complicated than that. Abuse conditions a person to stay longer than they should, and it also makes it dangerous to leave, potentially in more ways than one, even when the abused person wants to leave. For all he knows Maddie might WANT to leave Doug but be afraid what he’ll do to her and their son if she leaves might be worse than the compounded abuse they’ll sustain if she stays.

And the worst part is, she might be right in that train of thought.

Sometimes women die and-- he gags, scrambling out of bed and into the bathroom with Rex whimpering behind him.

.

She’s off shift and Doug is working all day; a rare reprieve.

Her hand drifts down to her stomach where she can feel their son kicking and she wishes she could promise him that she’ll keep him safe, feeling like a failure as a mother before he’s even born for not being able to give him that.

Her son-- her and Doug refer to him as “bean” out loud but in her head she calls him Declan, the name she wants to give him but can’t get Doug to agree to. It would be nice if Doug could offer up a few suggestions to see if they could compromise, but of course, he doesn’t. Just tells her that every name she comes up with is a wrong fit for their son.

She allows herself to fantasize, just for a moment, about running away and never seeing Doug again. About raising her son on her own-- a daunting task, yet far more appealing than raising him with Doug.

But she knows that wherever she goes, Doug will find her, and by extension their son. And she’s sure whatever it is that will happen after he finds her after she’s run away, it will be worse than anything she’s ever experienced from him thus far.

She wants her son to be surrounded by good men, good role models, like his Uncle Buck. She’s thankful Doug finally allowed them to move to LA, but she’s smart enough to read between the lines.

He knows he’s got her trapped.

Before the pregnancy, before they had a child tying them together for all of eternity, her being near her brother would give her a big enough support system for her to think about leaving him. But now, she can’t, no matter how much she might want to.

And she does want to, more than anything except one very important thing:

Protecting her son as much as is possible.

Still, her thoughts wander again to a life free of Doug, where he just magically doesn’t exist and she gets to raise her son as a single mother with the support of Buck and his friends and family. Hen is a kind, compassionate enough friend to want to help, Eddie knows how tough single parenthood is first hand, Bobby is honorable, and then there’s Howie…

Sweet, cute Howie who works at the bakery and is too charming not to daydream about some fantasy land where they fall in love and he becomes a father figure to her son.

It’s stupid, she thinks, to even begin to develop feelings for someone other than her husband even when her marriage is so unhappy, but here she is. She’s not dumb enough to believe that love will fix everything, but it’s hard not to be sad that she ended up married to who she did and missed out on the potential to experience love from a kind, good man like him.

Who she’s noticed doesn’t charge her for her coffee, and that doesn’t hurt, either.

She hasn’t known him very long, and she’s 30 years old, so she feels juvenile for having a “crush” but she supposes when she’s so stuck, daydreaming about something that will never happen is the LEAST that she deserves, right?

So very, very stuck, and by extension so is her son.

The guilt is immense, and she can only imagine it will get at least a hundred times worse after their son is born.

She can’t keep him safe from his father, she can’t keep him from seeing his father hurt her.

But if she tries to run, there’s no guarantee he won’t kill both her and their baby.

So she has to stay.

.

Hen really doesn’t know how she’s supposed to be able to look Buck in the eye while hiding the fact that his sister is in an abusive relationship from him. She knows he needs to know, but she’s hoping that Maddie will decide to share it with him, and while she loves Buck dearly and knows that he only wants the best for his sister…

He can be rash at times, getting too caught up in his emotions and not thinking before he acts. And she knows, she knows it’s because it’s the only reasonable way to feel, she knows that he is going to be absolutely furious when he finds out that Doug is not only a jerk, but an abusive piece of shit. And she knows there’s a chance he’ll confront him.

The problem with that is, as she and Chimney had discussed, that it would only make things worse for Maddie. Doug would take it out on her for telling her brother about the abuse, or for being “too obvious” about it even if she didn’t directly tell him herself.

When Buck finds out, it needs to be done delicately and she doesn’t think anyone besides Maddie would be able to calm Buck down enough to convince him not to do something stupid, no matter how well intentioned and understandable it might be.

This knowledge doesn’t make it any easier for Hen to be around Buck, though. She can tell that he’s picked up on the fact that she’s keeping her distance from him, but she has no idea what to say when he eventually confronts her about it.

No lie she can think of seems sufficient or believable, and she knows she can’t be the one to tell him the truth, at least not like this, not in the middle of the firehouse.

So she just stays on the other side of the station from him, looking down on her book and pretending like she actually has the focus to be reading it.


	10. Chapter 10

Maddie looks beautiful.

She always does, scrubs or not, but today she’s wearing a flowy red dress that’s only tight around her pregnant belly and her hair in a side braid as opposed to its usual long, loose curls.

He wishes he didn’t notice things like how she usually wears her hair.

He also, as much as he generally enjoys her company, wishes she weren’t at the bakery today because he knows she’s going to have questions about his mini breakdown the last time she was there, and the answers are not ones he can give in public when anyone else might walk into Dianna’s at any moment.

“Hi, Howie.”

“Hi, Maddie,” he says quietly, feeling so nervous that he doesn’t even add the customary jokingly delivered “welcome to Dianna’s.”

“Are you okay?” she asks anxiously, lips in a pout and oh, she’s wearing lip gloss today.

(Why is he noticing that?)

“Yeah, yeah, fine. What can I get for you?”

“An explanation,” she huffs, before quickly deflating and continuing, “not that you actually owe me one per say, it’s just that a few days you clearly weren’t alright and I know Hen went over to check on you but… I just want you to know that you can talk to me about things, and that you don’t have to pretend to be okay when you’re not.”

It’s a lot, it’s a lot especially coming from a woman that objectively, he hardly knows. But weeks feel like months with Maddie, a different sort of telling time marked by times he sees the light in her eyes and not a calendar. It’s not that he’s not used to care, per say, but he’s only used to it from the tight knit 118 circle, and from his mom before she died and…

Oh, it occurs to him that given what little information Maddie does have about his personal life, she’s probably assuming that his panic attack the other day was a product of his grief. Well, it’s not like that ISN’T tearing him apart daily, but in that moment, he was more worried about her than his own personal--

She’s waiting for an answer, he suddenly snaps back into the present, taking in her concerned, expectant face.

“Just a rough day,” he finally decides on, “thank you, Maddie, really, but it’s nothing big. Just a blimp on the radar now.”

He feels sick with guilt for saying that, even though he knows he needs to lie his way out of it because he can’t just announce he knows his husband is abusing her in the middle of the bakery where two young moms are playing with their kids in the corner, but referring to it as a blimp on the radar, even as just an excuse…

“Okay, well um, if you ever decide that you do want to talk, I-I can give you my phone number? If that’s alright, I don’t mean to--”

“Yeah, yeah, sounds like a good idea,” he nods, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically but regardless, Maddie doesn’t look creeped out, “how about I give you my phone and you put your number in while you tell me what I can get you, because I certainly hope you didn’t come here just to psychoanalyze me and that you also wanted cake.”

“Well, the cake is an added bonus…” she teases, and just like that they fall back into their usual easygoing banter, all mentions of seriousness easily forgotten for the time being.

Maddie eats her cake and drinks her coffee at the table closest to the counter, chatting with him, and he wishes it didn’t make his heart swell as much as it does that she actually WANTS to spend time with him.

He wants to get her out of her marriage for her own safety, but he’s not naive. Maddie is what’s most important, as is her unborn son, and he needs to get over this stupid little crush because he knows that she’s not magically going to leave when he suggests it, it’s not magically going to be safe if she does leave, and they’re not magically going to fall into a relationship after all the trauma that she’s been through, especially not with a baby on the way complicating things.

Still, it’s hard not to notice how bright she is, how bubbly and fun and sweet she is to be around. It’s also hard not to notice the way her thumb brushes against his cheek as she says goodbye to him, saying she has to go get some errands done and that she’ll be back to get her one cup of morning coffee tomorrow before her shift.

She touched him.

It shouldn’t mean anything to him, but it does. It means too much to him.

When she’s gone, he pulls out his phone and texts her so she’ll have his phone number just like he promised he would.

He thinks way too hard about what to send before he realizes that he’s once again acting like an awkward middle schooler and just settles on “hi, it’s Howie!”

When she texts back with no words and just a litany of smiling emojis, it shouldn’t be as endearing to him as it actually is.

Everything about her feels endearing to him, and he knows that a large portion of that is just good old fashioned infatuation, but there are parts of her that truly deeply admires, and he knows he has the potential here to actually fall in real love with her, as much as that would suck.

She’s positive, she’s caring, she dedicates her life to helping others, and she has the kind of laugh that reminds you that there’s good in this world, even when so much of it feels dark and laden with troubles.

Troubles that for her, he now knows, are happening at home.

Home, where she’s supposed to feel safe. Home, where she’s supposed to feel supported and not threatened, where she’s supposed to feel like she can recharge instead of always bracing for the next crisis. 

He can understand the feeling, to a small extent, thinking back to him and his mom walking on eggshells around his dad. But it was his mom who always took the brunt of it; as cruel as his dad could be to him, when it came to his mom it was always worse. And he thinks about how awful it was for him when he wasn’t even getting the worst of it, which makes him wonder just how much pain his mom was in, and now how much pain Maddie is in…

It’s not fair, and he feels like a juvenile for even thinking that, because duh, he knows that world is unfair. He’s 35, he has enough lived experience to know hardship and that fate can sometimes be cruel.

He knows.

But there’s something about danger at home that feels so unimaginably evil to him, because isn’t family supposed to be about love? No family is perfect, of course, God does he know that but… why must women like his mother and Maddie be subjected to pain in the one place that’s supposed to be guaranteed to be safe for them?

It’s not fair.

The outside world is tough enough; home should be a source of comfort.

But for Maddie, it’s not, and he has no idea how to remedy that.


	11. Chapter 11

.

She needs an x-ray.

She needs one for her sake and for her son’s. It’s most likely just a fractured rib, posing no threat to her or the life growing within her but she’s pregnant so she needs to know for sure.

It hurts when she breathes which she knows is a classic symptom of a broken rib and she and Doug had engaged in an argument the night before, but pregnancy puts stress on the heart and sometimes previously healthy women face severe complications in pregnancy…

Her husband can’t know that she’s getting an x-ray; it might make it the day where he quite actually kills her if he knows. But she needs one, if it was just her she’d let it slide but her son is also dependent on her health and she needs to know that it’s just a broken rib or two with no heart issues or punctured lungs.

They’ll be a co-pay, though, and if Doug finds the charge on the credit card…

And how is she supposed to come up with a plausible excuse for why she needs the x-ray in the first place, when the closest hospital is the one that her and Doug both work at and there’s no way some (well meaning) colleague wouldn’t flag down the husband of the prior pregnant injured wife?

She could go to an Urgent Care, she supposes. She does have some cash stashed away that she’s managed to keep hidden from Doug thus far and they often take people without insurance…

It’s less than ideal, but it’ll have to do. Her son is counting on her to make sure that it’s just a broken rib.

Just a broken rib, she thinks to herself with a bitter laugh, just a broken rib from an argument with her husband.

.

“Come on,” Hen sighs, helping her wife out of her chair, “we’re going to Urgent Care to get that ankle checked out.”

“Why can’t you do it?” Karen huffs, “you’re a paramedic.”

“Do I look like I have an x-ray machine? Do I look like I currently have access to any of the gear that I actually have when I’m at work?”

“Funny. But no, I’m sure it’s fine, just took a little tumble.”

“Just took a little tumble down a couple of the stairs because someone didn’t want to turn the light on while she was going to get some water.”

“Listen, honey, you know what it’s like. You turn the light on and then you’re wide awake and have a hard time falling back asleep.”

“Yeah, I think a sprained, possibly torn ligament in the ankle sort of situation makes it harder to fall back asleep than--”

“Don’t be mean to me, I’m hurt.”

“I’m not being mean,” she protests, rolling her eyes, “just trying to convince you to get in the car so we can get you some medical care. Besides, it’s 4 am, it’s either there or the ER, and I know you say the ER is a cesspool for every single infectious disease known to man.”

“Fine, Urgent Care, but I think you’re overreacting…”

“Yeah, yeah, you always do-- that is, until I’m proven right.”

.

“Maddie?”

She jumps, so panicked at the fact that she’s been recognized that her brain doesn’t place the voice to the person until she turns around to face her. No, no, no, she can’t be recognized, no one can mention this to--

She turns.

“H-Hen?” she squeaks out, hand dropping down to her stomach where her son has presumably picked up on his mother’s nerves given the way his foot is pounding against her womb.

“Are you alright? Why are you here? Where is--”

“Why are you here?” she counters, and it’s weak, both in the resolve in her voice and in the argument in general, because Hen’s wife is clearly limping so the answer is fairly obvious.

Even she has to admit the pregnant woman at an Urgent Care at 4:30 am is far more concerning than Hen’s wife having a sprained ankle.

“Karen fell,” Hen says slowly, looking her up and down in a way that feels just a little TOO knowing for Maddie’s comfort, “but what about you? Is the baby okay? Are you okay? Do you need--”

“I-I don’t need anything,” Maddie shakes her head furiously, getting ready to just run out of there and even though she’s already checked in and paid, “I’m fine. I was just--”

“Don’t leave yet,” Hen orders, and Maddie hates the way she jumps on reflex when Hen grabs her arm, “are you hurt? And I have to ask, you and your husband both work at the same hospital, so why wouldn’t you--”

“I fell, too,” Maddie stammers out, and again it’s weak, because when a visibly pregnant woman falls down that’s usually a trip to the hospital for a check over sort of situation, “it’s fine, I’m fine, the b-baby is fine.”

“Maddie…” Hen whispers, checking around her to make sure no one is near them other than Karen who is sitting down a few feet back now and pretending not to be listening, “was it Doug? Chimney saw bruises last week.”

Chimney saw… was it when he ran from her? When he insisted that he was fine and went to hide in the kitchen? And then when she checked on him two days later he still swore that it was nothing, that he was just having a rough day?

Fuck. No.

“Bruises? What bruises? He must have b-been mistaken…”

“Where did he hurt you? Why are you here? Tell me, I’m not her to judge, I’m just--”

“Feels pretty judgmental to me,” Maddie snaps, not because Hen actually is being judgmental but because she just wants to get as far away from this conversation as possible as quickly as possible, and Hen still won’t let go of her arm.

“Just tell me where you’re hurt, and then after that I won’t ask anymore questions, I promise.”

“...Y-You promise?”

“I promise,” she repeats, nodding her head and there’s a seriousness in her eyes that makes Maddie WANT to believe her, even if she’s not fully there yet.

“Think one of my ribs is broken,” she admits tearfully, “pretty s-sure that’s all it is but… m’pregnant, have to make sure it’s not s-something else.”

“Okay,” Hen says gently, moving her hand from Maddie’s arm to her shoulder, “okay, Maddie, and that’s all? That’s the only place where you’re hurt right now?”

“That’s all,” she confirms, looking down at the ground.

“Okay, well,” Hen sighs, “you were here before us so you’ll probably get called back first, so we’ll still be here after you get your x-ray, is your husband on shift?”

“You said n-no more questions.”

“Maddie.”

“Yes.”

“So how about you come home with us after? Just for a few hours. We can make tea and you can rest and we can just talk. About whatever you want-- no questions that you’re not ready to answer.”

“I can’t, I-I…”

“Please? Maddie, you know I can’t just let you go home alone like this…”

It’s not fair, it’s not fair to bring someone else into this, especially when she doesn’t trust Doug NOT to hurt anyone else deemed “in the way” of their marriage, but now that a safe place for just a few hours is offered to her… going home later that night feels impossible, it feels…

“Can I stay at your place for a few days? Just for a few days.”

She can’t leave him, she knows she can’t, but she can’t go home yet. Besides, this is that thing that they do. She says she’s had enough, she leaves for a few days, and Doug begs her to come home and promises to change.

Of course, he never does, not permanently, but those first few days after she comes home are usually more peaceful than the average day in their household. There are gifts that mean nothing, words of love that neither of them mean, a shallowness that disgusts her… but no fights.

He already broke her rib, she needs to protect their baby, if only for a little while.

“Of course you can,” Hen smiles sympathetically, “you can stay with us as long as you need.”


	12. Chapter 12

.

The bed in Hen and Karen’s guest room is very comfy, their son is adorable, and both mothers seem content to wait on her hand and foot. It’s nice and really she wishes she could stay here for the foreseeable future, and not just the two days she’s taking off work so Doug can’t find and confront her there, but she knows the longer she stays in one place, the more likely it is that Doug will deduce where she is and “ask” her to come home.

Ask, as if she even has a choice.

She can’t put Karen and Hen in danger, and she especially can’t put Denny in danger, so she’s only here for two days, no matter how much anyone tries to persuade her. Not Hen, not Karen, and not Chimney… he already saw the bruises and there was no way she could expect Hen, his very best friend in the whole wide world, to not mention that she ran into her at Urgent Care with a broken rib and was now housing her.

She hasn’t seen him yet, not since she knows Hen confirmed all his suspicions about Doug to him over the phone, but he’s supposedly coming over after the bakery closes later that day, and she wishes it didn’t make her as nervous as it did.

For multiple reasons.

She’s lounging on the couch with Karen, with her trying not to aggravate her broken rib and Karen resting her horribly sprained ankle up on the coffee table, watching some stupid soap opera that neither of them are all that invested it. The quiet, with Hen at work and Denny at school, is nice, but she feels a bit tense because she really doesn’t know Karen very well and now, oops, she knows her deepest darkest secret and is now letting her stay in her house.

But if Karen is judging her at all, she really does a good job of not showing it.

“Are you hungry?” Karen eventually asks, “I am, and I’m not even pregnant.”

“All people need food, pregnant or not,” she laughs, “but… I guess I am kind of hungry.”

“I’ll order us takeout! What’s your favorite?”

They’re both stuffing spring rolls into their mouths roughly forty-five minutes later when Karen asks her next question, biting her lip and asking it carefully as if it’s something she’s been mulling over for a while.

“What’s it like? Growing a baby inside of you, I mean.”

“Well… sometimes it sucks, but mostly it’s good, at least for me,” she murmurs after a moment’s contemplation, “some women have it pretty rough, but I’ve had a fairly normal, textbook pregnancy.”

(Other than the husband at home hitting her, she adds in her mind.)

“I’ve always wondered what it was like,” Karen sighs wistfully, “but you know, I’m a happily married lesbian and it doesn’t really work that way for us.”

“You two could try IVF if you wanted,” Maddie suggests gently, though she supposes maybe a single kid family is what they want, given Denny’s age without having given him a sibling, which of course is valid. Maddie would love to someday give the baby in her belly a sibling… if the circumstances are different.

“We could… We've been looking into different options for expanding our family, but the idea of picking a random sperm donor is… daunting. I mean, that’s where your child gets half their DNA.” 

“Well if you think about it, every father is a sperm donor-- some are just more involved than others.”

They both laugh at that, but Maddie frowns when her son kicks and her hand falls down to her stomach. Oh how she wishes her husband were just a sperm donor, helping her to get pregnant and then never being a part of their lives ever again. She has no idea how Doug is going to behave when their child is born. In a sick way, she’s used to how volatile he is now, but now their family is just a family of two. She knows a kid changes the entire dynamics of even good marriages.

“Maddie, I don’t mean to pry,” Karen whispers, and Maddie can tell that the other woman has followed her train of thought, “or to tell you what to do, because I know it’s a complicated situation, more complicated than I could probably ever imagine but--”

“If I leave him, he might kill me, and therefore our son because he’s still in my stomach,” she says bluntly, wincing when one of her son’s kicks aggravates her broken rib pain, “and if he doesn’t… if somehow he goes against everything I’ve ever know and he accepts it-- which he won’t but if he did-- what, I’m just supposed to accept that half the time my kid is going to be alone with him? Just imagining the horrors my ex-husband is subjecting our baby to when it’s Doug’s weeks with our son? I just can’t, Karen, and I promise you I’ve thought about this more than you have.”

It’s silent for a long moment, and Maddie’s worried that she’s been too harsh and ruined a potentially great friendship before it could even really begin, but then she feels Karen’s hand gently squeezing her hand.

“I’m not going to tell you NOT to leave him, you know I can’t do it, but I know it’s not as simple as just leaving him, Maddie. I know that. And I support you, okay? I really wish that things were different for you.”

“God, me too,” Maddie whispers, eyes teary as she squeezes Karen’s hand back.

.

Hen can feel her worry growing since it’s been an hour since Hen’s texted Chimney and he hasn’t texted her back.

He had looked like hell that morning when she popped into the bakery to get cake to drop off for Maddie and Karen before her shift, even more like hell than he usually did.

She’s not naive, she’s his best friend and she knows what the stress of the loss of his mother and running a bakery that he hates running is doing to him and has now been doing to him for months, and she knows that the newfound anxiety over Maddie’s living situation is only compounding his stress.

She just wishes he knew how to experience stress without completely abandoning the concept of taking care of himself.

He looked pale that morning, strikingly pale and like he was a little sweaty. Maybe he just had a stress migraine, but she also wouldn’t be surprised if hadn’t eaten or slept much recently, or if he was coming down with something as a repercussion of not doing so.

She sends him another text, this one worded much more aggressively and makes herself wait another five minutes before looking down at her phone again.

Still no response.

She’s probably just being paranoid-- Chimney often tells her that she worries too much and he probably just wasn’t replying out of friendly spite, or maybe the bakery is particularly busy today.

Still, she wishes he’d just swallow his pride and/or find a few seconds to text her back that he was alright.

Something just isn’t sitting right with her about it.


	13. Chapter 13

.

It’s almost as if he knows before he looks up.

He already feels physically terrible-- his bones are aching, his muscles are shaking, he’s drowsy and lightheaded and sweaty-- but a sudden wave of dread rushes over him and his heart is immediately pounding painfully against his chest. He’s afraid to look up, but the wind chimes let him know that someone has entered the bakery and well, it’s his job.

That face, those eyes.

Of fucking course.

He can’t say he’s surprised.

“Well, you look like hell.”

“What can I get for you?” Chimney asks biting down on his tongue until he tastes blood.

“You seen my wife?”

Ah, straight to the point. He might be evil, but at least he’s upfront about it.

“Who?” he asks as innocently as he can manage, because sue him for wanting to fuck with the man standing in front of him, “I’m sorry, sir, we have a lot of customers here and--”

“Maddie, Maddie Kendall. She’s here all the time; I know you know her.”

“Oh, I think I know who you’re talking about. She’s a regular,” he says carefully, really just wanting to smack Doug but knowing for Maddie’s sake he needs to feign a total lack of knowledge about her and her whereabouts, “sorry, just must have not recognized you.”

It’s snappy, and it’s definitely not the right thing to do, but he can’t help himself.

“Are you hungover or something?”

“Your wife,” he starts, pausing to suppress a gag at the idea of Maddie belonging to Doug in any way possible, “hasn’t been here today, I’m sorry. Is she alright?”

That’s a normal question to ask, right? If someone is looking for their wife and you’re supposed to be acting like you don’t know that she’s hiding from him because he’s an abusive monster, concern would be a normal emotion to display, right? Because if a normal man were looking for his wife, it might mean that something is wrong.

“Oh, yeah, she’s alright. I wanted to surprise her with some cake during her shift but not if she’d already had some. Might be a little too much sugar for the baby, you know?”

“Sure.”

It’s quiet for the rest of the transaction, Doug just pointing at the slice of cake that he wants to get for Maddie, and if he didn’t already know that his explanation was a complete farce, he’d know then by the fact that Doug isn’t even getting her one of her favorites.

It physically stings when Doug’s hand brushes against his as he hands him the bag containing the cake he’s certain is just going to end up in the trashcan right outside, and then he’s gone.

Chimney’s not certain whether he wants to throw up or cry.

He puts his head down on the cool counter and sighs in momentary relief, wondering if he’s actually running a fever and coming down with something or if it’s just the cumulation of a total lack of taking care of himself that has him feeling so terrible. He supposes it could maybe be both, or that he’s sick because he hasn’t been eating or sleeping very well.

“Excuse me, Howie? Are you alright?” a familiar enough voice asks, and he must have missed the sound of the chimes with the door opening.

“Yeah, yeah, fine,” he mumbles, snapping his head up-- but the movement is a little too quick. His vision starts swimming and he grasps at the counter in front of him to keep from falling over.

“You don’t look alright,” the woman who recognizes as Emily, a sweet old lady regular at Dianna’s, says in a semi-panic, rushing around the register to put a hand on his back, “here, why don’t you come sit down for a moment?”

“No, I’m---”

.

“I fucking knew it,” Hen grumbles, a hand against his forehead, “you kept insisting that you were fine this morning even though you didn’t look well at all, and you weren’t answering my texts… as soon as we got called to the bakery because someone fainted, I knew it would be the dumbass owner. You’re burning up, by the way. Hope you didn’t get anyone else sick handling food all day.”

“...Nice to see you, too, Hen?” he jokes weakly, dazed but just aware enough to feel mortified by Bobby, Eddie, and Buck standing a few steps back, looking at him with nothing but fear and worry.

“Idiot. You’re alright, I think-- I mean, you’re not. You’ve got a pretty good fever and you’re dehydrated but I think that’s it, no really serious, scary reason for you collapsing in the middle of the workday. They’ll probably run some tests at the hospital, but I suspect it’ll all come back fine and you’ll get to go home after an IV of fluids. And by home, I mean back to my place.”

“Hen--”

“You’re coming home with me,” she says sternly, gritting her teeth, “after you’re released from the ER we’ll pop by your place to pick up Rex, and then you’ll both be staying with us.”

She sighs, looking back at Buck and lowering her voice before she continues.

“We already have a full house, with a certain someone in our guest room but you’ve fallen asleep on my couch enough times to know that it’s pretty comfortable, as far as couches go. Maybe if you’re nice and cooperate and aren’t stubborn with the doctors, Karen will even make you soup.”

“I’ll be fine at home, really, I’ll just rest up, I promise.”

“What did I just say about being good and not being stubborn? Eddie, help me get this dumbass on the stretcher.”

“Your wish is my command,” Eddie replies, shooting Chimney a half concerned, half sympathetic smile.

“Is the stretcher really necessary? I’m fine, I’m just dehydrated and could--”

“Chim, what did I just fucking say?” Hen snaps, patience for him CLEARLY running very thing today.

“...Fine. Put me on my chariot. Your wish is my command, too, ma’am.”

“Much better.”

“Hey, Chim?” Buck asks nervously, “Maddie’s really worried about you. You might want to shoot her a text once you get to the hospital.”

“Maddie? You texted her?”

“Well, yeah,” her brother says awkwardly, “I know she loves this place and is here all the time and that you two have become friends, so I figured she’d want to know that her friend passed out.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s like, a soft HIPAA violation, Buckaroo.”

“It’s not,” his former captain informs him with an eye roll, “now let’s get you to the hospital, buddy. Get you all hooked up to an IV of fluids and then when you’re feeling a bit better you can get the lecture from me, Hen, AND Buck’s sister.”

“Great, can’t wait,” he jokes back, but the guilt is already setting into his stomach. He’s worried his friends, taken up the resources of the LAFD that could have been used on someone who likely needed them more, and Maddie is the one in real danger, and now the attention is on him.

Great, he managed to really screw that one up, too.

A wave of nausea rushes over him, and he’s not sure if it’s related to his physical emotions or his guilt, but he groans.

“You okay there?” Hen asks, a smidge of sympathy finally starting to creep into her voice.

“Yeah, yeah-- umm, actually, not to make you even more angry at me, but I think I might be about to vomit.”

“Hold on just a second, there’s bags on the ambulance, you idiot.”


	14. Chapter 14

It’s with a groan that Maddie wakes, groggy as always when she rises from a nap. She hates naps for that reason-- or at least she DID until she got pregnant and is now often too sleepy to avoid them. Still, it sucks to wake up all confused and disoriented. She glances over at her phone on the bedside table, fumbling for it clumsily and then seeing the time. She’s been asleep for almost four hours.

So much for the “short little nap” Karen had suggested she take before Hen was home with Rex and Chimney.

Chimney-- sweet, kind, sick and dehydrated Chimney who passed out at the bakery earlier. And also Chimney who knows the truth about the horrors of her marriage that occur behind closed doors.

She’s scared to face him, though he hardly seems the judgmental type, but her concern for him outweighs her concern for her own feelings as she finds herself putting on her slippers and then padding down the hallway.

“Howie?” she calls gently, pouting when she sees him pale and lying on the couch with Hen bringing a washcloth to his forehead with a frustrated frown on her face, “I-I heard what happened. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, m’fine. Just a little embarrassed.”

Hen grumbles a bit at that, and Maddie turns to her friend and (very) temporary roommate with a sympathetic smile.

“How bad is his fever?”

“It’s come down a little. Sitting at 101 now. He’d have been fine if he wasn’t a dumbass who never knows how to quit.”

The word “dumbass” gets a chuckle out of Maddie, who then timidly comes forward to kneel in front of the couch.

“Maddie, don’t--”

“I can handle kneeling. The baby is pressing down on my bladder, not my kneecaps, Howie,” she jokes gently, bringing her fingers to briefly brush across his rosy cheek to feel the warmth radiating from him herself.

“Still. Shouldn’t come too close. Might get you sick. You’re pregnant.”

“I’m a nurse. I get close to sick people everyday,” she says kindly, “how are you feeling?”

“It’s nothing, really. Please don’t be worried about me.”

“Because you’re not the one with a husband who…” she trails off, the grimace on her face filling in the last few words.

“Maddie, I-I didn’t mean… I just--”

“It’s fine,” she sighs, shaking her head, “I didn’t mean it in a rude way, I just… want to know how you’re feeling, that’s all. We can talk about… my situation, in a little bit. Right now I’m worried about you.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, “didn’t mean to worry you. Or Hen.”

“Well, you did,” Hen answers with an eye roll, before hesitating for a few seconds, biting her lip before standing up with a sigh, “I’ll be in the bedroom if either of you need me, okay? I’ll give you two sometime to talk. But I won’t be gone too long because someone needs to check on the idiot. And I bet you two can figure out which one of you I’m referring to.”

“How are you feeling?” Maddie asks again once Hen has slipped out of the room, “just humor me, please.”

“Not great,” he finally says with a nervous shrug, “feel weird, kinda lightheaded. Head and stomach hurt. But I’ll live. Just a bug.”

“You know, you wouldn’t have passed out if you took better care of yourself,” Maddie says, pouting again as her fingers once again find themself dancing across his cheeks.

“I know. Heard it all from Hen. Multiple times. She’s not happy with me.”

“Because she loves you,” Maddie says pointedly, before giggling as she hears the familiar pitter patter of four legged feet, “hi Rex!”

Rex yaps a bit at that, rushing over to unceremoniously stick his snoot in her face and start licking all over.

“Rex--”

“Let him,” Maddie grins, soaking up the excited affection from the dog who has absolutely stolen her heart even though they’ve only met twice.

“Good boy,” Chimney amends with a smile, “always wants to be everyone’s friend, but I think he likes you especially.”

“Oh, really?”

“Well, his tongue is currently all over your face, so yeah.”

“When you put it that way it sounds gross,” Maddie huffs, but she’s still laughing as she pets the excited dog, telling Rex that he’s a good boy over and over.

“Hen might be pissed at me, but he’s certainly not. Gets to spend the night here with all the attention from some of his favorite friends. He loves his Aunts Hen and Karen, and not to mention he loves Denny.”

“I bet, but…” she murmurs, biting her lip, “sorry you’re sick and have to take the couch.”

“Don’t be,” he shakes his head.

“If I weren’t already here you could have the guest room.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re here, so there’s nothing to apologize for.”

“I’m only here for one more night,” she sighs, “I-I know you’re going to try and convince me to stay, just like Hen and Karen, and believe me I know WHY everyone wants me to not go back but… I have to. I don’t want to but I HAVE to.”

“I’m not judging you,” he says slowly, enunciating every syllable after a beat of silence, “I know it’s not… simple.”

There’s another beat of silence and she’s scrambling to find something to say when he continues.

“And you’re right that of course I’m going to try and stay here longer, or more permanently, Hen and Karen are more than happy to stay as long as you need but… I get it. I mean, not fully of course, because I’m not the one in the situation so I can’t understand how you’re feeling completely but… as I said, I’m not judging you. I know this can’t be easy.”

“I-I needed to get out for a few days, for my own sanity,” she whimpers tearfully, “h-he broke my rib and I was so worried that the doctor was going to come out and say it was worse, that he hurt the baby, too, but the b-baby is fine…”

She pauses to take a deep breath, remembering that the baby is fine for NOW but there’s no guarantee he’ll continue to be fine, not with Doug being the way that he is.

“And I just n-needed… I couldn’t go home. Not after the fear that he h-hurt our son. And sometimes when I-I leave for a few days and come back… he’s kinder. He pretends t-to be nice and like he’s sorry and g-going to change, just for a little bit… I-I’m not stupid, I know by now he’s never going to change for real but… Howie, Howie if I d-don’t go home soon… I have to go home. I know you’re going to tell I-I need to stay here or run far away but I-I have to go home.”

When she finally dares to look up at him, she sees that she’s not the only one with tears running down their cheeks. He’s quiet for a moment, seemingly trying to figure out what to say and she knows that’s probably a good sign, a sign that he cares about her and her feelings unlike Doug and doesn’t want to say the wrong thing, but with every silent second that passes her panic just grows and grows.

What if he’s judging her? What if he thinks she’s stupid? What if he thinks she’s weak? What if--

“Okay,” he finally says, and it doesn’t sound like he’s fully convinced but he continues on anyway, “you know your situation better than I do and the thought of you going back home to him makes me… I can’t tell you what to do or how to feel. It’s just… I’m here, okay? Hen and I are both here for you, okay? No matter what. No matter what happens. You can always come here, to Hen’s house to stay for a bit or for a longer, or you can stay with me, too, okay? Just please tell me that you know that. That our doors are open to you no matter what.”

“I-I know,” she nods, a small smile on her lips despite it all because she’s not used to the extraordinary kindness and understand she’s received from him and Hen these past couple of days, “if I need help o-or to get out for a few days I’ll go to you or H-Hen, I promise. I just… can’t leave for good. I want t-to but I can’t.”

“Okay,” he repeats, and again it sounds like the word tastes like poison in his mouth, but he still says it, and he’s not judging her or telling her that she’s wrong or weak, “maybe… just don’t give up on sometime in the future, okay? But if you’re telling me that right now you can’t… okay.”

“Thank you,” she whispers, gently bringing her lips to his cheek, “thank you, Howie. You’re so… you’re so good, you know that, right? Y-You’re so good.”

“So are you,” he murmurs, looking right into her eyes as if he’s looking through to her soul and God, Maddie will never stop wishing that things were different. She’s been wishing it for years now for about a million different reasons but now she has a new one.

She has a new reason to desperately wish that things had unfolded differently.


	15. Chapter 15

It’s with a sigh quickly punctuated by a huff that Maddie reluctantly pads herself out of Hen and Karen’s guest bedroom, finally reluctantly admitting to herself that yes, she does have to pee badly enough that she won’t be able to fall back asleep until she does. One of the not so glamorous parts of pregnancy, and Maddie has found out that they’re are many. Her hips hurt, her back hurts, she has endless heartburn, but the constant peeing is probably the worst. She hasn’t been able to sleep through the night without getting up to use the bathroom in about a month.

She doesn’t think much of the light to the hallway bathroom being on, only noticing that someone else is in there when she swings the door open and finds Chimney seated on the floor, leaning back against the wall.

“O-Oh no,” she sighs, a bit startled but still sympathetic, “you’ve been sick?”

“Yeah, earlier… feel better now but just tired. Lemme get out of your way, probably gotta pee,” he grumbles, rising to his feet with a groan, “so sorry, Maddie.”

“No, hey, it’s fine,” she murmurs, chewing on her lip, “are you sure you don’t--”

“No, m’done puking, I’m sure. Go pee and then go back to sleep, I’m good now, I promise.”

As much as she’s concerned, she really _does_ have to pee but after when she washes her hands her mind can’t help but drift back to Chimney. He’s going to be fine, she knows that it’s just a bug but… something about him makes her want to fuss about it. 

(She’s going to claim it’s pure nursing instinct and not at all emotional.)

He seemed embarrassed a few moments ago and probably wants to be left alone, but going to check on him quickly before she goes back to bed is the responsible thing to do, right? Just to make sure that he doesn’t need anything before she goes to sleep.

“Howie?” she calls softly, peering back into the room with an apologetic smile, “are you sure you’re alright? Do you need anything?”

“No, really, Maddie, I don’t want to be keeping you up.”

“You’re not,” she shrugs, testing her luck by sinking down to sit by him on the couch, “I was already awake because I had to pee, and you didn’t mean to but I wasn’t expecting anyone else in the bathroom and that sort of startled me fully awake. Not going to be able to fall back asleep just yet.”

“Maddie--”

“You still have a fever,” she sighs, ignoring him as she brushes her fingers across his forehead, “poor thing.”

“Just a bug, I’ll live,” he says sheepishly, not making eye contact with her.

“Let me get you some water.”

“Maddie, please, you don’t have to--”

“I have to go home tomorrow. To Doug. And I don’t want to think about that and I want to take care of you so can you please just humor me?”

He flinches a bit at that, looking down at his hands as he presumably mulls over his next words in his head. Maddie thinks he’s going to try and once again tell her that she doesn’t HAVE to go home like Hen and Karen and he have been telling her every hour, but ends up letting out a deep breath and nodding his head.

“I guess some water would be nice.”

The verbal silence is a little tense as she fetches him his water, the clinking of the glass against the counter and the rush of the sink faucet both feeling far louder than they should be. Maddie notices the way her hand is shaking a bit and she wishes she could blame it entirely on the topic of her abusive husband waiting at home for her.

“Here,” she murmurs, forcing a smile on her face as she hands him the glass, “small sips, okay?”

“I know, I’m a paramedic,” he teases lightly, and she wishes the little grimace on his face and the whisper of “ouch” that falls from his lips didn’t immediately make her pout, but it does.

“What hurts, hmm?”

“Just my head, it’s fine.”

She awkwardly nods, watching as he tentatively sips at his drink and trying to think of what to say next. There’s this tension between the two of them that she hates and she knows it’s because of her husband so she can jot that down as one more thing that Doug has ruined for her.

Her hand moves down to her stomach with an intake in breath.

“He’s kicking,” she tells Chimney, biting down hard on her lip for a few seconds before bringing Chimney’s free hand to her stomach, “can you feel that?”

“Y-Yeah, actually, I can…” he trails off, sounding like he’s about to cry and it just drives home how much she’s not getting what she needs at her own house, where when she let Doug first feel their son kicking she had to be afraid that gently feeling her stomach was all his hand would do, and he had just given her a half hearted smile… she knows he doesn’t love her, not _fully_ at least, but the least he could do was love their son, right?

“Sorry if that’s weird,” she rushes out, pulling herself out of her own head, “I should have asked you if you wanted to feel before I--”

“No, no, don’t apologize,” he shakes his head vigorously, “I loved that-- liked, I liked that. It was, uh, really cool. Thank you for sharing that with me.”

“Can’t believe I’m seven months pregnant in a week, the time just seems to be flying by,” she admits, “it’s exciting… and also scary at the same time.”

“That’s understandable,” Chimney agrees easily, “I would be a little freaked out if I had a kid on the way, even if I wanted it.”

“Do you?” she asks, before quickly clarifying before he can read too much into it, “want kids, I mean. Do you want kids?”

“...Well, I did.”

“And then what changed?” she questions, and maybe she’s being a little too forward with him but it comes pouring out anyway, because there’s this inexplicable link between the two of them where she feels like she needs to learn as much about him as possible.

(It’s just the baby hormones, of course.)

“Then my mom died,” he whispers, looking up at the ceiling as he tries to blink back his tears, “I just… that doesn’t make any sense. It’s complicated.”

“No, I get it, and I’m sorry for asking,” she says softly, reaching out to touch his hand for just a moment, “I didn’t mean to bring her up. I know losing her has just been… awful. I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s okay, it’s just…” he trails off, before shaking his head hard and trying to veer the conversation onto another path, “what about your mom? Are you close? Is she excited to be a grandmother?”

“We’re not really that close, no,” she replies, hoping he’s not going to judge her because God, she knows that his mother meant the world to him and that their relationship was so close, “her and my dad aren’t bad people just… bad parents. Really, the only family I have are Doug and Buck.”

“You have… you have me and Hen and Karen,” he says tentatively, “I know that’s not the same as blood family; we’re not your siblings like Buck is, and none of us are the father of your baby…”

It sounds like it hurts his tongue just to say the words of the last part aloud, referencing how she and her husband are now tied together forever not only by holy matrimony but by the impending birth of her son.

“You mean a lot,” she admits, “you all mean a lot I mean, it’s just-- I’m stuck, you know? I’m stuck and I wish that I wasn’t but I am, and if I run… he’ll kill me, and that means he’ll kill our son, too.”

“You could… we could… I don’t know,” he says defeatedly, “I don’t know how to make this better for you. I wish I could. It pains me that you’re going home to… God, what’s he going to do to you when you come home? He already broke your rib, and that was before you left home for a few days?”

“I don’t know,” she says flatly, “I don’t know. Sometimes he’ll be nice for a few days, promise to do better but the rage will always hit at some point. Maybe right when I get home, maybe a couple of days later, but at some point.”

“Maddie, you can’t--”

“I have to. You promised me earlier, remember? That you wouldn’t pretend you know better about my situation than I’d do, that you’d support me no matter what.”

“No, no, Maddie, I’m not trying to do that, I just-- I want better for you. And for your son and I don’t know how to make the better happen and that kills me. You’re special, you know? You were just some girl at the bakery and now you’re not.”

“Some girl at the bakery?” she repeats, mildly offended, “but no we’re friends?”

“Maddie, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Then how did you mean it?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

“Why not? Are we in middle school?” she asks with an annoyed huff, “because I’m really trying not to take what you said the wrong--”

“I can’t tell you because you’re married.”

It’s silent for a long, tense moment, with Chimney’s eyes looking everywhere but her face. She thinks she tastes blood from how harshly she bites down on her tongue and she’s trying to keep it all inside but just because they can’t be together doesn’t mean she shouldn’t be honest with him, right? He’s being honest with her.

“If things were different,” she finally says, panting a little bit as she shifts to be closer to him, “...I’d tell you something that I can’t say because I’m married, too.”

“Um, I…” he says breathily, “glad we’re on the same page, then?”

It’s awkward and she wants to roll her eyes at that, but then she frowns because hey, what is he supposed to say anyway? She’s married. They’ve both said they wanted things to be different but… they aren’t. And they can’t be.

“You’re really special,” she says after a moment, her hand drawing a line across his cheekbone, “and if--”

“What the hell are you two doing awake and practically in each other’s laps?” Hen demands, and oof, they had apparently been too caught up in each other to hear a pair of frustrated footsteps approaching them.

“Uh, hi Hen? What are you doing awake?” Chimney tries.

“Maddie, you go back to bed. You’re pregnant and you need sleep. Besides, I need to have a little discussion with mister sickie over here, who should also be sleeping but not until I finish lecturing him.”


	16. Chapter 16

.

“What the hell?” Hen hisses, as soon as Maddie is out of the room, “you’re sick. You’re supposed to be sleeping, not flirting with the married woman who you were supposed to be keeping a distance from.”

“Didn’t feel good,” he says meekly, wishing Hen’s glare didn’t make him feel like a school boy who got in trouble with his teacher, “woke up needing to throw up.”

“And I told you to wake _me_ up if you were sick in the night, not Maddie.”

“I didn’t wake her up, the baby kicking at her bladder did,” he corrects gently, “she found me in the bathroom and got me a glass of water and then we just… talked.”

“Talked? Oh, I stumbled upon some talking?” Hen asks bewilderedly, “do you think I’m stupid, Chimney? Because you and I talk all the time but I’m never in your lap caressing your cheek with--”

“Okay she wasn’t _caressing_ \--”

“Caressing your cheek about to kiss you. We never do that. So why don’t you try again explaining to me what I just stumbled upon in my living room?”

“Look, Hen… I didn’t mean to.”

“Didn’t mean to what?” she asks, gesticulating wildly with her hands and really he understands her frustration, she really does because none of it makes any logical sense but isn’t he supposed to follow his heart or whatever? Judging by the look on his best friend’s face, maybe not.

“We were just talking. She wanted to… she didn’t want to think about going home so she asked me to let her sit with me for a bit.”

“And that led to you two being about to make out on my couch.”

“Hen, we weren’t going to like, make out.”

“She was about to kiss you,” Hen retorts, glaring at him, “and you didn’t look like you were going to reject it. She’s _married_ Chimney, with her husband’s baby in her belly and I don’t know if you keep forgetting that or you just don’t care, but you need to stop.”

“Not happily married, Hen, he’s hurting her!”

He doesn’t mean to shout; there are multiple people sleeping in the house and also it’s Hen and he knows she’s just trying to protect him, especially since he’s already been having a rough time since his mom died and he quit his job at the station, but the frustration boils over. Yeah, this isn’t a magic fairytale where it’s simple and she’ll just leave Doug and they’ll live happily ever after, but why does her married union make him wrong for being in-- for caring about her when her husband physically hurts her.

“I know that,” Hen says calmly, taking a deep breath to keep from shouting back at him, “but she’s still married, she’s still tied to him by law and now by blood that she’s pregnant, and I don’t want you to get heartbroken or get caught in the crossfire. This is a dangerous situation, Chim-- emotionally _and_ physically-- I’m just trying to protect me.”

“I don’t need you to protect me,” he insists with a huff.

“Umm, lately? Yes, you actually do need me to protect you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asks, and okay, even if it’s not deserved now the anger is really starting to set in inside of him. He’s an adult, he doesn’t need his best friend playing guard dog with him.

“You’re a mess,” she says bluntly, and usually he enjoys how straightforwardly honest Hen is but now is not one of those times, “you have been since your mother died and it’s understandable and I’m not judging you, but it’s the truth. You blame yourself for her death, you quit your job that you loved out of guilt and a false sense of obligation, and now you’re--”

“You know what?” he snaps, unwilling to listen to anymore of it, “shut up! Just shut up and leave me alone. Go back to sleep and leave me be. You’re not helping anything.”

“Chimney,” she says through gritted teeth, a clear warning in her tone of voice, “I know you’re upset but _I_ have been the one there for you trying to take care of you because you won’t do it yourself. Trying to get you to eat and sleep and staying over when you need me just to try and keep you afloat.”

“And I never asked for any of that!”

“You didn’t, but I’m your best friend so I had to. And you would do the same thing for me, I know you would, so maybe calm down a little and treat me with some respect. I’m just trying to--”

“Protect me, I know! But I don’t want it and I don’t need it!” he whispers yells, tears of frustration welling up in his eyes, “I don’t need you! Maddie’s going home tomorrow to someone who might kill her so I don’t need your protection or a lecture.”

“You know what?” Hen whispers, a hollow look in her eyes, “fine. You’re on your own now if you’re going to be that ungrateful. Do what you want, just don’t come crying to me when it all falls through. I’m done sitting around watching you hurt yourself, Chimney, I’m done.”

.

She had seen his car in the parking lot, she knows that he’s home. She’s tempted to walk back her decision and drive back to Hen and Karen’s house, but she knows the longer she stays away the worse the consequences are going to be… she might as well face them now.

“Hi,” is all she says after she opens the door, observing Doug’s blank face as he sits at the kitchen table, “I’m home.”

“Where the fuck have you been?” he asks, face and tone still emotionless but she knows that’s just the calm before the storm, “I was about to report you missing. And do you know embarrassing it is when you have to pretend you know the reason why your wife keeps calling out to work and all your coworkers are asking if she’s alright?”

“I needed a break.”

“A break? From what? This is marriage, Maddie; there are no breaks.”

“You broke my rib,” she says flatly, knowing she’s going to get hurt no matter what she says, so she might as well lay it all out on the table, “and I got scared. There’s a baby growing inside of me, Doug. And right now he’s still healthy but we both know that his status could change, and we both know how.”

“How dare you? How dare you accuse me of endangering our child when you’re the one doing everything you can to mess this up?”

“Just get it over with, Doug. Just do it.”

“Do what?” he asks, her blood boiling as he does his best to appear innocent and confused as if he has not put her through hell everyday over the past 5 years.

“Hit me. Beat me. Whatever it is you need to do to punish me for what I’ve done. Just get it over with.”

“You never learn, Maddie,” he shakes his head, sighing as he gets up from his chair, “you never learn and that’s why we keep having to do this.”

He hits her over the head, and then everything goes black.


	17. Chapter 17

.

It’s been three days since Maddie woke up on her kitchen floor with the worst headache she’s ever had in her life. It’s better, but not all gone and the dizziness is still gone and her brain might as well be scrambled eggs but she had already missed work when she was hiding from Doug and she can’t take anymore time off so here she is going to work, scrambled egg brain and all.

It’s also been three days since she’s last spoken with Chimney. No matter how hard Doug tried to get it out of her but she refused to tell her where she ran to. And while Chimney had been there for one night, that had been purely coincidental-- but her husband is thoroughly convinced she had been hiding away with him. He had seen them through the glass windows of the bakery, he had said. He had seen the way they smiled at each other, he had said, and the way her body would ever so slightly brush up against him…

She shouldn’t be surprised that he’s been stalking her outside of the home, and really she isn't, but she is scared. Not so much for her, or at least not more than she usually is scared for herself, but she’s terrified for Chimney. He’s innocent, and she should have known this would all fall down on him, too, she should have pulled away from him the moment she noticed she was starting to have feelings for him… but she hadn’t, and now he’s in the line of fire because of her. She just hopes her insistence over and over again that he’s just a guy behind the counter of a bakery she likes is enough to placate Doug and keep him from doing anything stupid.

But she has to cut contact with Chimney, though, no more bakery visits or texts or calls that Doug could find on her phone… she misses him.

She’s a fool, she tells herself, she’s a fool for even entertaining for a second that she could have a relationship with him.

“Good morning,” Josh says, eyeing her carefully as she walks into the ER, “we missed you around here. And you know, you could have answered my calls.”

“Sorry,” she sighs, genuinely guilty as Josh is the best friend she has at work, “just… busy.”

“With what?” he presses, and she should’ve known that he wouldn’t be happy with that shabby explanation, “you disappeared for like, a week. And are you okay? You look pale and like you can’t even… here, follow my finger with your eyes.”

“Josh, no, I’m fine,” she shakes her head, but he’s grabbing her arm and pulling her into an empty exam room.

“Is he hurting you?”

Her heart thumps painfully against her chest and time stops.

“Maddie, he’s hurting you, isn’t he?” Josh asks again, tears in his eyes and he’s inquired before about the nature of her relationship with her husband, but never this bluntly and she doesn’t think there’s any lie in the world that could get her out of this one.

She stays silent, knowing that he’ll get his answer either way.

“You have a concussion,” Josh whispers, “and I’ve seen what I thought were bruises covered by makeup and I-I… I should’ve said something sooner and Jesus I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry I didn’t before but you’re moving in with me now.”

“What? No?” she replies, shaking her head again which just makes her vision swim, “no, no, Josh… he did this to me-- my head-- because I left for a few days. I can’t leave again. He’ll hurt me, and the baby.”

“Then don’t go back. If you don’t go back--”

“He’ll find me, he’ll find _you_ ,” she says desperately, “and he’ll kill me and if you’re in the way, he’ll kill you, too, trust me.”

“He doesn’t know where I live.”

“He can find out!” she half-shouts, “he can find it on the internet. It’s only a matter of time before he figures out that I’m staying at your place. Josh, I can’t do that to you.”

“Yes you can, and I’m not giving you a choice,” he sighs, voice cracking, “Maddie, I waited too long to help because I wasn’t sure and I don’t know if I can ever forgive myself for that. But I can help you now. Please, please come live with me. I know you’re scared of what he’ll do if you leave but… look what he’s doing to you while you’re there. I’m… I’m really afraid he’s going to kill you if you stay.”

“He’ll kill me if I leave.”

“You don’t know that,” Josh whispers, “and… there’s a chance you’ll die either way, yes, but… shouldn’t that mean you make the choice that at least gives you the _chance_ to make it out of this alive?”

“Josh…”

“Just think about it. Promise me you’ll think about it.”

Maybe it’s the fact that she’s still not thinking clearly from her husband knocking her out three days ago, or maybe it’s the fact that she’s become increasingly convinced he’ll kill her any day now, but regardless, she nods her head.

“I’ll think about it.”

.

Chimney bites down on his lip until it draws blood in an attempt to keep from screaming. Being impaled through the skull by a metal rod had definitely been the worst pain he’s ever been in, but this is a close second.

It hurts like a broken bone-- but it can’t be, right? If Doug is strong enough to have twisted his arm back so harshly that it broke, that would mean… he wants to vomit, and now it’s not so much from the pain and more of the implications of what Doug’s capable of doing to Maddie if he’s that strong. So no, it can’t be broken, he refuses to believe it.

The pain and instant bruising say otherwise, of course. He’s a paramedic, he’s not stupid but the only thought running through his mind is that it can’t be broken.

It can’t be broken because Maddie will feel guilty, it can’t be broken because he’ll have to come up with an excuse for how it got broken because getting the police involved will only make Doug take his anger out on Maddie, and it can’t be broken because the closest hospital is the one that Maddie and Doug both work at.

He screams despite his best efforts, as if his body is trying to tell him to stop being such a fucking idiot. It had happened so fast. He had been taking the trash out outside the back of the bakery and then were hands shoving him up against the brick wall and yelling that he had to stay away from his wife. He had kept saying that Maddie was just a regular bakery visitor and not even a friend but Doug only got more and more angered by “him fucking lying to his face” and he kept twisting his arm behind his pack to try and get him to tell him where Maddie had been when she was away.

He hadn’t of course, and eventually Doug gave up and left when the sound of nearby people could be heard, but Chimney could hear a snap in his arm and the pain was searing.

Hen, Hen would know what to do. That’s his first clear thought after the denial. She would, she’s smart, she would think of something but he can’t call her anymore. She had told him she was done, that she wouldn’t be there when it all backfired and she had been… right. It had backfired, and he had pushed her too far, telling her not to come crying to her when the consequences came upon him.

He could call Bobby but Bobby would want an explanation and whatever he gave him would be see through and Bobby doesn’t know about Doug, he can’t know because then Buck will know, and he screams again, locked away in the bakery kitchen and hoping no one is in the front of the store listening.

It’s his left arm, not his dominant one. He can push through it, right? He can do most of his daily tasks with only one arm-- it would be harder than usual but not impossible. He could do it, and maybe his arm wasn’t broken, anyway. Maybe he’s just being dramatic.

He can’t put Maddie in any further danger. And besides, even if is broken, that’s nothing on everything that Doug’s put Maddie through, right?

He’ll push through it, he can handle it. A cast on his arm will only lead to questions which would only lead to more danger for everyone involved.

He can push through, he has no choice but to push through.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i will never update this quickly again... am only giving into peer pressure because madison bribed me and is writing something for me AND because i already had this pre written


	18. Chapter 18

Her unborn son is kicking up a storm inside her stomach, as if he can feel the terror and panic holding her in a death grip, and she supposes he probably can. Maybe that makes her a bad mom, but how else is she supposed to feel? She saw Doug today. She left, not promising Josh she’d stay with him forever but at least for a little bit while she plotted out her next move, for the second time in the last week and a half and he had laid eyes on her during the shift.

Her saving grace was that the ER was packed and he got paged to perform an emergency surgery, but she knows she won’t get lucky like that every single time. They work together, at the same place. Maybe he won’t physically hurt her at the hospital, but he’ll definitely find time to pull her aside and threaten her at some point.

And maybe he’ll wait for her coming out of the building after her shift is over…

The thought makes her feel sick. She was a fool for running to Hen and Karen’s house, and she was a fool again to let Josh convince her into coming home with him. It’s only been one day but she knows Doug’s fury must be absolutely ignited and the slightest bit of gasoline and everything will go up in flames. She’s endangered herself, her son growing inside of her, Josh, Chimney, and Hen… and everyone at the hospital.

How many stories has she heard about workplace mass shooters attacking where they’re wife or girlfriend works because they had the audacity to leave them? She’s read about far too many incidents, seen far too many examples of mass shooters turning out to be domestic abusers. Sure, it’s unlikely that Doug would shoot up the place, most abusive men just kill their individual female partners but… it’s not impossible. She’d love to say that Doug isn’t capable of mass violence but she just doesn’t know anymore, especially since there once was a time where she never thought him capable of laying a hand on her.

Really, she’s lost most of her hope about surviving him and at this point her focus is mostly on damage control. She’s accepted the possibility of dying at her husband’s hand for years now, but she feels devastated at the idea of him taking out anyone who he deems “in the way” of getting her back or killing her. She can’t let Josh get hurt, she can’t let Linda or Sue get hurt, she can’t let even any of the hospital workers she doesn’t even know get hurt because everyone’s life means something to someone.

It hits her like a ton of bricks; here’s one more thing that Doug’s taken from her: her job.

She can’t keep her job, as much as she’s desperately tried to hold onto it as Doug’s insisted that she quit or cut down her hours now that she’s pregnant. Everyday where they work at the same place is giving him access to her, and access to everyone else. She knows the second he senses someone is helping to keep her from him, he’ll retaliate against both her and those who she might ask to help keep her safe on the job.

And she doesn’t need to just quit her specific job, she needs to quit nursing in general. Because Doug is relentless and once he realizes she’s quit, he’ll check every other hospital trying to figure out where she’s gone. She can’t be a nurse anymore.

Sometimes she wishes he’d already taken her life.

But then her baby kicks and she remembers how in love she is with this tiny being who hasn’t even been born yet, and she remembers Josh and Hen and… Chimney, people who’ve helped bring her tiny pockets of joy…  
No, she needs to fight, she just doesn’t know how.

She can’t stay with Josh permanently, she knows Doug will figure it out but she also knows that at this point after leaving twice so quickly, he’ll probably kill her and their son the second she returns back home.

Maybe she just needs to run away, but then again, he’s relentless… he’ll find her wherever she goes and then she’ll be alone… it all just feels so impossible and she wishes she could just go back in time and say no that first time Doug asked her out.

She has no answers; she’s as good as doomed.

She looks down at her phone, knowing she needs to call in to quit as much of a dick move as that is because she can’t risk running into Doug at the hospital yet, but she doesn’t quite have the strength for that yet. Besides, she just got done with a long shift her supervisor also worked, so she probably should just leave Cherry alone for the time being.

But… there is someone she _could_ call, she realizes, just to hear his voice. She’s not living with Doug and she’s changed her phone number but transferred all her previous contacts over to her new phone.

It’s selfish, definitely, because she knows she can’t risk seeing him in person but they haven’t spoken in days and maybe it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to let him know she’s physically okay and to make sure Doug hasn’t paid him any visits.

She frowns, realizing it’s eleven pm and even if Chimney is awake, he’s not going to pick up at this hour for an unknown number. Still, she tries anyway because she can least leave him a voicemail letting him know she’s alive and staying with a friend.

“Hello?” he asks softly, startling her by picking up after the second ring.

“Chimney? Oh-- of course it’s you, I called you I just, thought you might be asleep…” she trails off awkwardly.

“Maddie? Are you calling me from someone else’s phone? Are you okay?”

“No, I mean yes, I’m okay. I got a new phone so Doug couldn’t call me, I’m staying with another friend for a little bit.”

“That’s great,” he sighs, sounding relieved but somehow a little… off, maybe?

“I just… I don’t think there are any easy answers but he hurt me really bad when I went home and I just…”

“What did he do to you?” Chimney asks, voice uncharacteristically low and serious.

“I don’t want to say,” she shakes her head, “I-I’m okay now but it was bad. I just wanted to let you know that I’m somewhere that’s at least safe for now and that I’m sorry for not reaching out. Doug, umm… you haven’t heard anything from him or seen him, right?”

“No,” he replies, again something in his voice sounding weird but she just can’t put her finger on it, “why?”

“I, uh, he wondered if because I’m at the bakery so much… apparently he’s been watching us there, I-I’m so sorry… he wondered if I went to you when I left and was angry. So I couldn’t g-go to the bakery or call or text you. I’m sorry if you were worried.”

“Don’t be sorry, you don’t--”

His words cut out and she hears a hiss from the other sign of the line, followed by a whimper and maybe she imagines it but she thinks she hears sniffling?

“Chimney? Howie? Are you okay?” she demands, starting to panic a bit because it sounded like he was in pain, “answer me, please. I’m scared.”

“Yeah, yeah, I-I’m fine,” he replies, sounding as if it’s through gritted teeth.

“You don’t sound fine. You sound like you’re hurt. Did something happen?”

“Just a migraine,” he replies, “I get them really bad sometimes, ever since my accident. But it’ll pass, please don’t worry about me.”

She hears another sniffle and he’s definitely crying and she’s seen people cry from horrific headaches in the ER and there’s nothing she wants to do more than comfort him in person but she knows she can’t, she knows it’s not safe.

“Listen, um,” he continues, voice sounding strained, “I-I think I need to go lay down in a dark room and have it quiet for a bit. But thank you for calling me to make sure I know you’re okay.”

“Of course, go take some medicine and lay down. Text me in the morning so I know if you’re feeling better, okay?”

“Will do,” he says, and then he’s gone, and she’s oblivious to the howl of pain he lets out, cradling his very swollen left arm.


	19. Chapter 19

.

He groans when his alarm goes off, not because he was asleep but because it fucking hurts. It’s been almost three days since Doug gave him a likely spiral fracture and the most sleep he’s gotten is about an hour and a half at a time because the pain is all too much to sleep peacefully. He doesn’t want to get up and face another day, throwing on an oversized sweatshirt to try and hide how his arm doesn’t look right, trying to push through the pain and hide how uncomfortable he is while serving customers at the bakery.

He’s not stupid even if he’s acting like it, he has a decade’s worth of experience as a paramedic and knows that spiral fractures often need surgery and he’s only incresing the chances and doing more and more damage to his arm the longer he goes without a cast. He knows he’s risking irreversible damage, but hey, he’s not a firefighter anymore and at least he can do most of what he does at the bakery with one arm.

It’s certainly not advisable but it’s to keep Maddie safe, to keep _everyone_ involved with the situation safe because he shudders to think of how Doug would react if he faced consequences for breaking his arm. 

He can do it, he tells himself, over and over again.

He can do it.

But then the moment Bobby walks through the bakery doors, he knows he’s screwed. There’s no fooling Bobby, there’s never been any fooling Bobby.

.

Maddie feels extraordinarily lonely and vulnerable sitting alone at Josh’s kitchen table, while he’s working a shift in the emergency room and she’s not because she had been forced to quit her job in the interest of all her coworkers and her own safety. She feels pathetic, to have had to quit over the phone with no notice but she heard something click in her boss’s voice when she apologized repeatedly and begged her not to tell her husband. Cherry had said she understood and wanted to know if she needed help, but she had politely declined and hung up. She’s already put enough people in danger by accepting their help.

It scares her, well it scares her more than usual, being all alone. Being all alone in her own home-- the one she used to share with Doug-- was comforting because then it meant home was safe until his shift was over or he was done running an errand, but now she’s hiding from him and the moments she’s alone without Josh are the moments she’s counting down in her head until when Doug will inevitably find her.

It’s not going to be pretty. He finds her, it’s likely she’ll die. She goes home on her own volition? She’ll likely die. It’s not fair. Everyone always tells people in abusive relationships to “just leave” but none of them have any of the actual answers for how to stay safe in the leaving. At this point, she’s given up hope in surviving more than the next year-- she just wants to survive until her son is born and hopefully she can somehow stash him somewhere safe.

But that’s unlikely, too, because Doug is his biological father and unfortunately has just as many rights to their baby as she does, even if he shouldn’t. If there were charges against him? Maybe she’d have an argument for full custody but again, Doug’s wrath if she tries to press charges and take their son away will ultimately end in her death.

Declan, as she calls the life growing within her even though Doug won’t agree to the name, sweet innocent Declan who’s done nothing to deserve the situation that he’s going to be born in. All she’s trying to do is protect him but it seems like every move she makes is only making things more volatile. She’s doomed, she’s long accepted that, but what about him? Is he ever going to have a chance at a healthy, happy life? Is he doomed because of her own doomed fate and the life that his father chooses to live? It’s not fair, none of it is fair at all and she knows she needs to keep fighting for her son’s fate but it all seems so hopeless and bleak. 

She needs to make another move, but she’s terrified of making things worse again.

Maybe there is no move to make.

No, no, she at least has to try. Not for her but for her son. 

She picks up her phone and calls a friend.

“Athena?” she asks quietly, voice cracking, “can I ask you for some advice… off the record?”

.

“Chimney,” Bobby says steadily, leaning over the counter to try and get a good look into his eyes, “what the hell is going on?”

“Nothing, what can I get for you?” he mumbles, and he knows it’s no use, that Bobby is not going to accept that but he’s at least going to try.

“An explanation,” Bobby retorts, scanning over his face with his eyes, “Chimney, you look like hell. What’s going on? Are you still sick from last week? Do I need you to take you to the--”

“You’re not my dad, Bobby,” he snaps, biting down on his lip to try and keep from bursting into tears at the unbearable pain in his arm, “did you come here for food or coffee or just to interview me?”

“Well, I did come here for cake but now I’m more concerned about my friend behind the counter,” Bobby replies evenly, always one to stay calm and even tempered no matter how the other person is involved is speaking to him or feeling emotionally, “you look… you look awful, buddy.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“You’re not going to get me to go away by being rude,” Bobby informs him, raising his eyebrows, “so you might as well tell me what’s wrong because I don’t have a shift today, so I can take all the time in the world standing right here until you tell me what’s wrong.”

“Not my captain anymore,” he tries weakly.

“No, but you’re still my friend,” Bobby counters, still remarkably unphased, “and I can’t just leave you here like this when you look like you’re going to collapse at any moment.”

Bobby reaches out to feel his forehead, and Chimney jerks his body back because he’s not sick and he’s frustrated and Bobby just needs to leave him alone, but he accidentally moves his bad arm in doing so.

He hisses, leaning forward and squeezing his eyes shut in an attempt to keep from bursting into sobs in front of his good friend and former captain, because oh God the pain is overwhelming and has been the past two and a half days and he just needs it to stop.

“Chim? Chimney?” Bobby asks, rushing behind the counter and putting a hand on his back, “hey, hey, what’s wrong? Where does it hurt that bad?”

He doesn’t reply using words, not trusting himself to speak without howling and just shaking his head, futilely hoping that Bobby will get frustrated or bored and leave him there.

Of course, he doesn’t.

“Hey, Howard,” he says commandingly, speaking to him as he used to when he was his boss, “I need you to take a deep breath, and I need you to look at me and tell me where it hurts, okay? I can’t help you if you don’t tell me.”

“S’fine… it’s not--” but then Bobby grabs his arm, the _wrong,_ arm in an attempt to get his attention, and then he can’t hold it back, he’s screaming and crying and it’s very lucky there are no customers in Dianna’s at the moment or else someone would probably be calling 9-1-1.

“Fuck,” Bobby murmurs, and he’s not sure he’s ever heard Bobby cuss before, “fuck, your arm? I need to see it, Chimney. I’ll be gentle this time, I promise-- I didn’t know, I’m so sorry-- but I need to see it, and then we’re going to the hospital.”

“N-No,” he whimpers, sliding against the wall to sit down on the floor, “no h-hospitals. And y-you can’t call Hen…”

“Howard,” Bobby orders, kneeling down in front of him, “I need you to tell me what’s going on, and I need you to tell me right fucking now.”


	20. Chapter 20

.

Maddie hates the look on Athena’s face. Sure, Athena is a seasoned professional and this is not the first sort of this conversation that she’s had and her poker face is _good_ but… she can still see the sadness and the fear in her eyes. Maybe it’s different she thinks, when it’s someone the police sergeant actually knows.

She may not know Athena very well yet but Athena does know her brother inside and out and her husband is his fire captain, so she knows she’s putting the woman sitting across from her in a precarious position but it just feels too impersonal and scary to open up to a police officer about this that doesn’t know her or her family at all.

“He’s going to kill me, Athena,” she whispers, a single tear gliding down her cheek as she clutches at the warm mug of coffee in front of her, “and I know the law isn’t… I-I know you can’t promise me that he won’t but I at least have to try, right?”

There’s a long silence after that, and Maddie would panic if it weren’t for the thoughtful look on Athena’s face. They may not really be friends but she knows her well enough to know she’s a woman of weighted words who always thinks things through and leads from a place of thoughtful conviction.

“I will do everything I can to keep you safe, Buckette,” she says eventually, reaching over to pry one of Maddie’s hands off of her mug and into one of hers, “I don’t have as much legal authority on this as I wish I did but I will make the most out of what I have. I will do everything in my power to keep you and your son safe.”

“I appreciate that, and I know you will, it's just… what can even be done? I know a restraining order is probably the first step but that will just make him more angry, and a restraining order only works if the person it’s against decides to abide by it, and Doug won’t, trust me. He’s relentless. One time back in Hershey I left, just for a few days and was always intending to come home and he knew that, I told him I needed a break and he went to all of my friend’s houses until he found me and dragged me home. A restraining order is nice on paper but in theory? I think I’m still screwed.”

“You’re right, it’s efficacy depends on the moral imperative of the man who it’s restraining,” she starts, “but it is a good first step. So is you staying with me.”

“Wait, what? I can’t ask you to take me in and I’ve just been bouncing from house to house. First Hen, and now Josh…”

“It’s not bouncing now because you’ll stay as long as you need,” she replies authoritatively, squeezing her hands, “we file the restraining disorder, you stay with me where I own a gun and know how to use it and also happen to have a very tight security system. And do you know what me having cameras all arounds mean? We pick up on the tiniest infraction and I can file it and register it as a complaint. Before he decides to get violent, he’ll likely try and scope it out if he figures out where you are, make sure you’re there and figure out how to break in. But we catch him looking around? Infraction. Too many and he’s arrested.”

“That’s… that’s good and smart,” she admits, “but it’s not like he’ll get thrown in jail the first time he violates the order. Who’s to say he won’t get one slap on the wrist and then comes back guns literally blazing? He doesn’t own a gun right now but that doesn’t mean he won’t get one.”

“It’s not only him physically breaking the restraining order that we can use to build a stalking case,” she says gently, “any attempted contact with you over the phone or through email? That’s breaking the restraining order. And you living with a police officer? Makes it incredibly easy for us to legally document everything.”

“That’s true,” she concedes again, biting down on her lip, “but it’s still not…”

“None of it’s foolproof, Maddie, I’m not going to lie to you,” Athena sighs, now reaching out to be holding both of Maddie’s hands in hers, “but this is a good start. And it’s safer to be living with me than anyone else you know right now. We’ve got alarms, I’ve got a gun, I know how to use it. And I don’t think this is the first place Doug is going to look.”

“He’ll find me, even if I never leave your house he’ll find me.”

“If he’s going to find you, he’ll have to get through me first,” Athena huffs, “I’m an officer of the law, Madeline. I know I can’t promise or guarantee you anything, but I know how to hide someone better than most people.”

“What if he starts stalking my friends and family?” Maddie asks desperately, lower lip wobbling, “how are we going to keep them safe? They can’t all file preemptive restraining orders against him-- they can’t until he tries something. And what if that first try… I mean, what about Buck? Or Hen? Or Howie?”

Athena cocks her head to the side, and Maddie sees confusion in her eyes that confuses _herself_ because this is not Athena’s first domestic violence case so surely she would have already considered the potential danger that her loved ones were in.

“Howie?” she asks after a moment, eyebrow raising, “everyone calls him Chimney.”

“I do, I mean, sometimes,” she says hurriedly, and she tries not to blush but apparently she’s failing because she can see the recognition on Athena’s face, “I-I just met him at the bakery and he doesn’t introduce himself to customers as Chimney.”

“And you’re close enough to him that you’re worried about his safety?”

At least there’s no judgment in her voice, only genuine curiosity.

“We’re friends,” she sighs, “sort of close, I guess… Doug is Doug and if he sees even the slightest indication that another man might be a romantic threat…”

“Ah, I gotcha,” Athena nods, mulling it over in her brain before continuing, “well, I know it’s hard and I cannot make this decision for you, but I think you should tell them about the situation at hand so they can be cautious and protect themselves. And if they see anything or he interacts with them, we can use that, too.”

“Oh my god, how am I supposed to tell my baby brother?” Maddie sniffles, wiping at her eyes with the sleeve of her jacket, “I-I know he has to know now to keep him safe and so that he’s not terrified when I disappear but… how am I supposed to tell my younger brother that my husband wants to kill me?”

“There’s no right or wrong way, I don’t think,” Athena says honestly, “he’ll be devastated, but he’ll be glad that you told him.”

“I hope so,” Maddie sighs, “God, I’m dreading that. At least Hen and Howie already know.”

“Wait, you told Chimney? Are you sure you two are--”

“Not the time for that, Athena,” she huffs stubbornly, putting her head down on the table, “not the time.”

“Point taken. Topic of discussion dismissed.”

.

Once the pain medication hits his system, it’s all a blur. He remembers Bobby being there with him, trying to comfort him and get him to be honest about his injury, he remembers the nurses’ confusion and worry when he had admitted that his arm had been broken for three days before he sought help, and he vaguely remembers being told he’d need surgery sometime that next week. But it all feels like one big daydream, one that he’s just now waking up from.

He’s confused when he wakes up in the dark; the pain medication has started to wear off and his arm is hurting him but it doesn’t feel like enough to have woken him up from his deep, medication induced sleep. He still feels a little dizzy and like he’s floating and he’s about to let his eyes close again before he hears voices in his living room and the sound of Rex excitedly pitter pattering around, and ah, that must be what woke him up.

He can’t make out who the other voice besides Bobby is-- he knew Bobby was going to spend the night on his couch but who would he have invited over? And it sounds like the other voice is muffled because whoever it is, they’re _crying_ and that’s enough for his curiosity to get the better out of him and get him to stumble out of bed and into the hallway.

“Looks like someone’s awake,” Bobby murmurs.

“O-Oh, did we wake you?” 

“H-Hen?” he whimpers, because why is she here? He told Bobby not to call her and even if he went behind his back and did, Hen wanted nothing to do with him anymore, right? They had fought, he had told her to back off and she had told him that he was done.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s me,” she sniffles, coming towards him and wrapping a gentle arm around his waist, “let’s get you back to bed, o-okay? Didn’t mean to wake you up, I think Rex was just excited to see me again…”

“But you’re mad at me?” he whines, confused but exhausted and giving in and leaning his weight into her as she guides him back towards his bedroom.

“Shh, we’ll talk in the morning, okay? We’ll talk later. Right now you need rest. Can’t imagine how much pain you were in… probably weren’t getting much sleep, hmm?”

“Hen,” he whines again, grateful that she’s there but not puzzled by her genuine care for him because she had been right, it had blown up in his face and she had told him not to come crying to her when it did…

“Shh, shh, bedtime,” she hushes him, carefully climbing into the bed with him as not to jostle his arm, “you need sleep, you can hardly keep your eyes open. Just let me stay with you, okay?”

“Okay,” he concedes with yawn, eyes feeling heavier by the second, especially with the Hen’s body warmth helping to comfort him, “missed you.”

“I missed you, too, Chim. Now off to sleep you go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow!! 20 chapters!!


	21. Chapter 21

.

There’s a fist shaped hole in Bobby and Athena’s wall.

It should feel ironic, considering Buck has responded to learning of all the fists to the wall in her and Doug’s apartment by making one of his own in his friend’s home, but she knows the anger Doug unleashes her is incomparable to the expression of heartache from her little brother. Buck would never hurt her, Doug would and does… and it’s a lot for a baby brother to take in. She feels like a shit older sister for putting him through this, but Athena was right, with Doug’s violence escalating, what Buck doesn’t know _could_ actually physically hurt him. Really, she’s lucky that no one else other than herself has been hurt so far.

It’s silent after the impact, other than Buck’s heavy breathing and when Athena comes back into the room she’s sure the other woman is going to start yelling at her brother but she doesn’t, only leans against the counter and folds her arms over her chest with a sad sigh.

“I… I-I’m sorry, I just…” he trails off, hand over his chest.

“It’s okay,” Maddie whispers, though she supposes it’s not her own thing to forgive but Athena is nodding her head so maybe she understands what Buck is feeling, too.

“How long?”

“How long since--”

“Maddie.”

She’s not naive, she knows what he’s asking and the frustration in his voice doesn’t even hurt because she knows the least that she owes him right now is full on honesty.

“A while,” she shrugs, “the first time he ever hit me was after we got married but in hindsight… he was just building up to that the whole time.”

Another beat of silence and the look on her brother’s face terrifies her, not for herself but for all the plates in Athena’s cabinet. Luckily, nothing gets smashed, he just bangs his fist down on the table.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You know it’s not that simple, Buck.”

“Do I? Because I’ve only known what’s been going on for five minutes,” he spits, and this time she has to take a deep breath and remind her that the anger isn’t really directed at her, at least most of it isn’t, “I just… make it make sense to me, Maddie. Make it make sense that my sister’s husband has been beating her ever since she married him, including while she’s fucking pregnant and she’s only just telling me now? I-I could have helped you, Maddie. I could’ve protected you?”

“How?” she challenges, trying to sound confident which is surely undercut by the way her lower lip is starting to wobble, “it’s not… it’s not simple, Buck. I don’t know how to explain it to you, Evan. And if I tried earlier, it would’ve put you in danger but now you probably are and… I’m sorry. I don’t want him to hurt you.”

“So he’s only allowed to hurt you?”

“Buck,” Athena warns, giving him a careful, pointed look that must work because Buck is sighing and shaking his head.

“I’m sorry, Maddie, it’s just…”

“A lot to take in?” she offers gently, tentatively taking a step toward.

“Yeah,” he whispers, looking up at the ceiling for a few seconds, “I-I’ll be better about it, I’ll get better about it, I just… need to think it all through. It’s a lot.”

“I know,” she nods, taking another hesitant step towards him, “I-I don’t expect you to fix it or have all the right things to say… it just got to the point where you needed to know for your own sake.”

“And for yours.”

“And for mine,” she agrees quietly, taking one more step towards him until he moves forward to close the gap between them, pulling her into a hug as they both hold onto each other and cry.

.

It’s with a great, shooting pain in his arm that Chimney wakes, groaning as he takes in the sight around him. Rex is at his and Hen’s feet, and apparently to get into a comfortable position to sleep with his arm in a sling, he’d taken to essentially using Hen as a body pillow. If she’s at all annoyed by it, she doesn’t show it.

“Hurts pretty bad, huh?”

“Like a bitch,” he sighs, squeezing his eyes shut tight as he lets out a hiss between his teeth.

“It wouldn’t still be hurting this bad if you had gotten it treated right away. And it’s only going to start hurting _really_ bad again after your surgery next week when the anesthesia wears off-- a surgery that you only need because--”

“Hen, you’re a paramedic. You know even if I went to the hospital right away I’d still probably have to have the surgery.”

“Maybe not _probably_ ,” she huffs, “but yes, fine, it’s possible. But what I need to know is why the fuck are we even having to ask this question?”

“...What do you mean?”

“Don’t play dumb with me,” she rolls her eyes, “you’ve acted like a fool over your arm but I know that you aren’t actually one. I need to understand why you didn’t seek immediate medical attention, because I know you have to have some sort of reasoning for it. Even if I hate that reasoning.”

“You’re giving me a lot of grace there,” he says, taking in the look on her face and seeing sadness and fear as he bites his lip, “I maybe think you already know?”

She sighs, looking deep into his eyes in a way that suggests she’s hoping to see something that will prove her suspicions wrong, but she must not see whatever she’s looking for because she shakes her head and he thinks he sees her own eyes starting to water.

“Hey, hey, Hen, no, don’t cry,” he says, panicking a bit because Hen has never been that much of a crier, and maybe he’s misremembering it because he still had prescription pain medication in his blood at the time, but wasn’t she crying last night, too?

“You would’ve gone to the hospital if it was an accident,” she says with a little sniffle, wiping at her eyes, “and I can only think of one person who might want to hurt you, that person being Maddie’s husband; she’s mentioned to me that he’s jealous of you and we know he’s violent already and God, Chim, this was what I was trying to keep from happening, you know?”

“I-I know,” he whimpers, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t… I overreacted… we both said things that… it’s not your fault, that he hurt you. But I need you to… I’m right? He hurt you?”

“He um, twisted my arm back, far.”

“So far that he fucking broke it?” Hen asks, voice quiet-- this time with a subtle, quivering rage instead of sadness.

He just nods, looking at her, fearful of whatever her reaction will be.

“I’ll kill him myself.”

“Hen, no, you know you can’t--”

“Of course I know I can’t actually kill him!” Hen shouts, unbeknownst to her getting the attention of Bobby from the kitchen where he’s making breakfast, who now creeps closer to listen in on the conversation through the door, “but he broke your fucking arm!”

“I know, but we can’t do anything stupid about it, okay? We have to keep Maddie safe in the grand scheme of this whole situation, her husband breaking my arm isn’t really _that_ much of--”

“Don’t tell me you’re about to say Doug twisting you arm so far being your back that it fucking snapped isn’t that big of a deal, because I swear to you Chimney, I will--”

“What?” Bobby asks, opening the door and not giving a damn that he’s admitting that he’s been eavesdropping, “Maddie’s husband broke your arm? And you didn’t tell the police?”

“I-I uh…” Chimney chokes out, mouth completely dry, “you can’t tell Athena. Maddie can’t know.”


	22. Chapter 22

Athena groans when she hears her phone ring another time-- she had sent Bobby a text saying that she could not talk at the time because she’s monitoring the Buckley siblings to keep them from doing something stupid. And by “them,” well, one Bobby could probably guess which one she’s more worried about.

They had a vague, quick conversation the night before in which Athena announced Maddie as their new roommate and went over the bare bones of the issue, and Bobby hadn’t objected, just told her okay but he won’t be home soon because he’s dealing with something regarding Chimney. Short and sweet.

And now he won’t stop calling when they had decided on talking about _everything_ later, in person, but then she realizes it’s well into the next day and Bobby still isn’t home. He isn’t home and if he’s calling so insistently then maybe something is wrong.

“Bobby?” she sighs, “is everything alright? Please tell me you don’t need any police presence because--”

“He broke his arm.”

“What?” she asks, furrowing her brow, “who did, Chimney? That’s… awful but I don’t understand why it’s an emergency that you just absolutely had to reach me over as soon as possible.”

“Athena…” he murmurs, and she bristles a bit at that edge to his tone, sensing that she’s not going to be happy about what she hears next, “do you have a moment to talk alone? As in… can we talk without anyone hearing your end of the conversation?” 

“Yes,” she nods, eyeing the Buckley siblings and determining that they’re calm enough for her to step into the other room for a bit, “Bobby, what’s going on?”

“Last night, you mentioned that Maddie’s husband was… dangerous? And that’s why she’s going to stay with us?”

“Yes, and I know it’s less than ideal but--”

“No, no, that’s fine. Of course that’s fine, I just have further confirmation of how dangerous he is.”

Her face scrunches up in confusion for a few seconds, not quite sure of where this is going until it clicks. Maddie had worried Doug would lash out at those close to her. Maddie had said she was worried about Chimney because Doug was convinced there was some secret relationship going on between the two of them.

“Did he,” she starts, lowering her voice, “did he do that to Chimney?”

“Yeah,” Bobby replies, sound surprised, “how did you-- did you know Chimney might be a target?”

“Maddie mentioned that she was worried about him in addition to Buck,” she says quietly, peering around the corner just to double check that Maddie and Buck aren’t listening in on her, “because she was at the bakery a lot, and in Doug’s mind… but Bobby, when? And how? And why didn’t he go straight to the police?”

“Three days ago, Athena. Almost four,” Bobby sighs, and she can practically see him rolling his eyes based on his tone, “he didn’t-- he didn’t even go to the hospital until yesterday, and that’s because I unknowingly grabbed his bad arm and he screamed. He was trying to hide that his arm was broken, Athena. I had to _make_ him go to the hospital; he didn’t want to.”

“What? Why the hell not?” she asks, raising her voice in confusion before reminding herself she needs to not attract any attention because this is a sensitive situation, and when and how Maddie learns about this has to be carefully considered. She’s already in a fragile emotional position, and Athena knows the guilt she’ll feel when she finds out Doug broke Chimney’s arm could come close to crushing her.

“He said that he was worried if he went to the police that Doug would take it out on Maddie,” Bobby says, sighing again, “and that where it happened there weren’t any cameras so he had no proof.”

“Where did it happen and how did it happen?” she demands, feeling an annoyance rising in her chest because chargeable or not, that’s for her and other police officers to decide, not Chimney. She understands that Chimney is only trying to further protect Maddie from her husband, but that doesn't mean you let a violent man get away with assault.

“Outside the back of the bakery,” Bobby tells her, “this was when Maddie was temporarily crashing at Hen and Karen’s. Doug didn’t know where she was obviously, and he started going around to people who he thought might know. Chim did apparently know, but of course he wasn’t going to say.”

“So Doug got violent,” Athena whispers, biting her lip to keep the groan that wants to come out at bay.

She hates domestic violence cases. She hates how the courts and the law only will do so much, she hates how she can’t just throw the assholes in jail at the first time of trouble. She gets it, of course, that everyone is entitled to a robust legal defense and that officers of the law should not be given uncheckable power. But the system often lets victims of domestic violence fall through the cracks and it never ends well. Whether they suffer more beatings that could have been prevented if their husbands were convicted until they leave, or they never find a way to leave, or they wind up dead, it never ends well when justice isn’t served.

And this time, the person in danger is Maddie, a person who is now a part of their family because she’s a part of Buck’s.

“Yeah, he got violent,” Bobby answers.

“How? Did he beat him with a bat or something? Any other injuries besides the broken arm? Any bruises or a concussion?”

“No, just his arm.”

“Well then how the hell does that happen? Most assaults with broken bones entail other injuries.”

“He, uh, he tried to get Chimney to give him the answers by twisting his arm further and further behind is back…”

“Oh,” Athena replies, popping the p, “I hate this son of a bitch even more than I did ten minutes ago.”

“What are we going to do, Athena? I mean, what is there to be done? Is there even--”

“Of course there’s something to be done,” Athena cuts him off with a huff, “if you think I’m going to sit around and let all this madness continue? You’re wrong.”

“Athena, I _know_ you’d never give up, but I know that legally, these situations are complicated.”

“They are,” she sighs, “but I guess that means I just have to get creative, don’t I? Chimney might not have cameras outside the back of Dianna’s, but he has building neighbors, doesn’t he? Maybe they have security cameras outside and I could pay them a little visit.”

“Why did I even doubt your power for a second?”

“I don’t know, baby, don’t you know who you married?” she teases, “I don’t want to leave original Buck and Buckette alone, so how about you come here and watch them while I go out and do some detective work? Does Chimney have anyone that can stay with him for a bit.”

“Hen’s here and packing up some of his stuff to move him into her house as we speak,” Bobby replies with a chuckle, “he has surgery next week to correct some of the damage, so he’ll be needing some help for a bit.”

“He needed surgery and he didn’t… nevermind, I’ll deal with that idiot later--”

“Buck, NO!” Maddie screeches, and Athena jumps before recovering and rushing back into the other room, but it’s too late.

She hears her front door slam shut.

“Bobby? I think we’re going to need to tag team this one because there’s a new idiot on the loose. You go to the hospital Doug works at, I’m going over to his apartment. We need to prevent Buck from going to jail.”

“Keeping Evan out of jail, got it,” he replies, and she definitely sees the eye roll from over the phone through his voice again as she hears his keys jingling before the call disconnects.

“Maddie?” she calls, “Bobby and I are going to go track down your brother. Let’s hope we get there in time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm sorry if this is terrible and littered with typos-- my brain is absolutely fried right now i need sleep and a lobotomy


	23. Chapter 23

It makes perfect sense that Bobby is the one to try and go intercept Buck at the hospital because Chimney’s apartment is closer to the hospital Doug works at than his apartment, but now he sort of hates that _he_ was the one tasked with checking the hospital because he sees Buck’s car in the parking lot. While he’s learned some conflict de-escalation skills over his years as fire captain, he’s not a police officer, and he’s terrified that it’ll get to the point where one is needed.

He tries to physically shake the fears out of his head as he jumps out the driver’s side door and rushes towards the hospital entrance, not even bothering to lock his car as he does.

“Buck!” he calls, relieved to see that Buck is only a second or two ahead of him, “Buck, I need you to come back here and listen to me. Whatever it is you’re going to do, it’s only going to make things worse for your sister.”

He’s not surprised when Buck doesn’t listen, practically stomping into the hospital and Bobby rolls his eyes as he chases after him, managing to get a hand on his arm a few feet into the emergency room.

“Hey, stop,” he commands, putting on his captain voice, “Buck, let’s just go outside for a few moments and think about the consequences of our actions, okay?”

“The consequences of MY actions? The consequences of my actions, Bobby? What about the consequences of Doug’s?” he demands, practically shouting and definitely gathering the attention of more than a few hospital workers and patients waiting, and he just hopes to God that none of them recognize Buck as Maddie’s sister.

“You’re making a scene, Buck. Trust me, that’s not the way to--”

“Wait, how do you even know?” he asks, raising his voice even higher and Bobby wants to be frustrated with him but the tears in his eyes are making it hard, “how did you know that my sister’s sorry excuse for a husband was beating--”

“Buck, lower your voice. Now. And I didn’t know until Athena told me. I needed to know since Maddie is moving in with us for a while. I found out the same time you did, okay? No one was going around behind your back about this.”

He realizes the _second_ that it’s out of his mouth that it’s a lie-- that Chimney and Hen and then presumably Karen knew because she stayed with them for a few days-- but if it’s a lie that keeps Buck from being arrested, maybe it’s for the (temporary) greater good.

“Except Maddie.”

“These things are complicated, Buck. You’ve been on domestic violence calls with me before-- you know it’s not that simple. It’s not that your sister doesn’t love or trust--”

“Buck?” a new voice asks, “what are you doing here?”

“You’re a liar,” Buck shakes his hand angrily at Bobby before going to stand right in front of Josh, a little _too_ close to him for comfort, “you both are because people were going behind my back about it. Josh knew. She told me she stayed with him for a bit, too.”

“Buck, your sister didn’t tell me, I figured it out. She came to work with a concussion last week and I’d seen a bruise on her wrist a few weeks before. I confronted her about it until she couldn’t deny it.”

“He gave her a fucking concussion and grabbed her so hard there was a bruise on her wrist and nobody fucking told me?”

“Okay, Josh, we need to get him out of here. I’ll grab one arm, you grab the other, we can have this conversation outside.”

“Yep, not the best place for this,” Josh agrees quickly, but Buck is strong and is able to slide out of their grasp, charging forward and both Bobby and Josh quickly start trailing him.

“He’s in surgery,” Josh tries, having no idea of whether that’s actually true or not but pissed as Buck is, he doesn’t think he’d try and interrupt a theoretical open heart surgery. Buck might risk him and Bobby as collateral damage, but not some poor stranger who needs a heart transplant.

“You don’t know that.”

“I do, we had a trauma involving a gunshot through the chest and I just had to page him thirty minutes ago, there’s no way he’s finished,” Josh lies, “Buck, I know you’re angry but let’s not risk someone’s life by interrupting their surgery, okay?”

“You’re lying to me!” he shouts, and given the way nurses in the hallway are looking at them he wouldn’t be surprised if one of them is paging security, “how am I supposed to trust you when everyone has been lying to me? I wonder how long this has been going on, huh? Probably for fucking years and I had no idea, so how am I supposed to believe that you only knew for a few days? Or that Doug is in--”

“Speak of the devil,” Josh interrupts, seeing Dr. Kendall around the corner, “Buck, you need to shut up and walk out of this hospital with me and Bobby _now_ , okay?”

“Right now,” Bobby agrees, yanking on Buck’s arm, “you’re going to act on emotion and as justified as I might find it, the law might not be so merciful okay. And you’re a firefighter, any criminal record might--”

“Buck, to what do I owe the honor?” Doug asks, and Bobby and Josh immediately get physically in between the two, hoping they’ll be enough to keep this from getting violent, “have you seen your sister lately, by chance?”

The smile on Doug’s face makes Bobby feel sick; the sadistic glint in his eye and smugness in the lips tells Bobby everything he needs to know. Doug knows Buck knows the truth, how could he know given the pure anger radiating off the younger Buckley sibling? And now, Doug’s just having fun with taunting him.

“Hey, Linda, call security,” Josh says in a hushed tone, flagging down one of his nursing friends, “this is going to get ugly.”

“You sick son of a bitch,” Buck spits.

“For caring about my wife?”

“Caring? You think everything you put her through is called caring?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Buck,” Doug shrugs, and Bobby thinks he might be leaving bruises by how hard he’s grabbing onto Buck, but hey, damage control.

“She’s done with you, and you’re with her. She’s filing for divorce and never having anything to--”

“Buck, no, shut up, NOW,” Bobby says hurriedly, knowing that the threat of divorce in domestic violence situations can escalate things dramatically in the worst of ways, “you don’t know what your sister wants.”

“Divorce? No, never,” Doug says casually, but Bobby can see the rage briefly flashing across his face and knows that Buck, though not meaning to, has succeeded in making everything worse, “Maddie and I will work it out, we always do. We’re just having some problems right now-- it happens in every relationship. Maybe if you were mature, you’d understand. Let’s try having a relationship that lasts more than six months before you try and comment on the state of my marriage, alright buddy?”

“Don’t you fucking dare!” Buck shouts, lunging at his sister’s husband and thankfully Josh and Bobby are able to stop him from making actual contact, and security arrives just in the nick of time before Buck tries again, but Bobby knows the real damage has already been done.

Buck had said the “d” word. Divorce. Athena had mentioned that Maddie had wanted to go into _hiding_ for the time being, to lay low. To have some stalking violations racked up against Doug to get him at least temporarily in legal trouble, to see if he backed off before considering filing the legal papers because she knows how much danger they could put her in. And it doesn’t matter that Maddie has no actual intent to; Buck has put it in Doug’s brain that she does.

This is going to get ugly before it gets better.

“Hey Buck?” Doug asks, calling out as security is helping Bobby and Josh to escort Buck out of the hospital, thankfully with no arrests or police presence needed, “ask Chimney how he’s feeling for me, okay?”

“Wait, what?” Buck asks, looking at Bobby in confusion, “he knows Chimney?”


	24. Chapter 24

Assault; that’s what Maddie has on her mind for a brief moment.

(She wonders if that’s what it feels like to be Doug.)

It’s even more infuriating because she knew, she _knew_ Buck would act out against Doug like this once he knew the truth about her marriage; once he knew that Doug was not only a jerk but violent with her. It’s a major part of the reason she hadn’t told him in the first place, that coupled with wanting to protect her baby brother-- because that’s what big sisters do, right? They protect their younger siblings, not the other way around. Or so she thought.

“Standing between you and anyone who thinks they can hurt you is exactly where I want to be standing!” Buck shouts, but she can tell by the sheepishness starting to seep into his expression that he’s starting to realize he fucked up. Majorly.

“Well I don’t care if it’s what you want when it’s only making things worse,” she cries exasperatedly, “you’ve made things _worse_ , Buck! So much worse. He’s going to kill me. He’s going to kill us all.”

It’s quiet for a long moment after that, her heavy breathing and the sound of the ice maker being the only sounds in the kitchen. It’s just her and Buck staring into each other's eyes while Bobby and Athena stand silently in the corner, letting the siblings work it out on their own but ready to intervene if necessary.

“It’s not your fault,” Maddie sighs eventually, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-- you shouldn’t have done what you did. Mentioning divorce made things worse, it made things so much worse but if anything were ever to happen to me, it wouldn’t be your--”

“Nothing is going to happen to you.”

“You can’t promise me that,” she shakes her head, “you don’t know Doug the way I do.”

“Well maybe I would know him better if you hadn’t hidden the truth.”

“Well look how it turned out when you finally did,” she deadpanned, “you told him I wanted a divorce and now he’s going to want to kill me even more. And you. So sue me for not telling you earlier.”

“You still should have.”

“Maybe.”

“Maddie…” he whispers, and the desperation in his voice sets off a pang of sadness in her voice alongside the anger, “I’m sorry.”

“I know,” she nods, not willing to forgive him fully, not yet. He’s her brother, the most important person in her life besides the baby kicking in her belly, of course she’ll forgive him. Just not at this very moment. He needs to know, he needs to learn from this because it’s not just him and his rage towards Doug in all of this. There are other people involved and of course it was never his attention, but now that the “d” word has been brought up to Doug, she can practically feel her casket being lowered into the ground.

She just hopes she gets to give birth to her son first, honestly.

And she helps that everyone else gets out unharmed, which feels more and more unlikely with each passing day, and with more and more people getting involved. She’s grateful for their courage and help, of course she is, but she can’t help but feel like she’s dragged them all onto a sinking ship.

Doug, as much of a monster as he is, is very smart and it only makes him all the more dangerous. He told her how this ends; maybe she should start believing him. But not yet, not until she can stash away her son somewhere safe. She has to keep fighting until Declan is born and given to Buck, or hell, even her own parents. She may not be close with them but they _are_ on the whole other side of the country, away from Doug and the danger, and they might not be the most skilled parents but her baby would most certainly be safer with them than here in LA with his father.

“Maddie?” Buck’s voice asks timidly, almost as if he’s already regretful of what he’s about to say, “does Doug know Chimney?”

Her blood runs cold and she can even feel her son freezing in her belly for a moment before he goes back to moving around.

“Why are you asking me that?” she demands, knowing Doug must have said something, knowing that despite her best efforts, Chimney must be in harm’s way. Because if Doug is mentioning him to Chimney, that must mean he--

“He asked me, before we uh, before they dragged me out of there… he told me to ask Chimney how he was feeling?”

She sees it, not on Buck’s face but Bobby and Athena’s. They both have good poker faces but she can see the flinch for a fraction of a second, and a new wave of rage and determination overcomes her, marching herself forward, so close to Bobby that her swollen belly almost touches him.

“What the hell do you know? What did he do to Chimney?”

“Maddie, please, let’s just take a moment--”

“I don’t want or need to take a moment, I want to know whatever the fuck happened to Chimney,” she spits, and she can practically feel Buck shuddering behind her. She’s not one to swear very often, especially at her brother’s boss, but it feels like she’s not even in control of herself at the moment.

(Again, she wonders facetiously if this is what it’s like to be Doug.)

“Madeline,” Athena says calmly, and she shakes her name. Full named. She doesn’t care. They’re just stalling and trying to find the prettiest way to say it, packaging whatever Doug did or said to poor innocent Chimney in a bow to try and keep her from completely freaking out, but that train has already left the station.

“I’m so used to people lying to me,” she says flatly, a cold look in her eye, “Doug has lied to me pretty much everyday of our marriage and I’d like to think that I can at least depend on you to tell me the truth, Athena. So please, just put me out of my misery and tell me what happened.”

“...You’re right,” Athena agrees after a moment, “at the very least I owe you the truth. Just maybe--”

“I don’t want to sit down.”

“Fair enough,” Athena sighs, biting her lip before deciding to just do it, to rip off the bandaid and hope for the best in terms of Maddie’s reaction, “a little less than a week ago, Doug went to the bakery. He caught Chimney out back, wanting to know who you were staying with that first time you left and then ended up back home. He tried to get Chimney to crack and he of course did not.”

“And?” she prompts, practically seething with every second that goes by when Athena and Bobby won’t just spit it out.

“And he broke Chimney’s arm.”

Another deep, tense heavy silence.

And then an anguished scream.

There’s a hand on her shoulder and she yanks her arm back so far and so quickly that she bangs her elbow against the counter, but she can’t even feel it. She’s seeing red; really, she’s so overwhelmed and angry and scared and betrayed that she’s seeing spots in her vision.

“Mads,” Buck murmurs, and she’d hear the fear in his voice if she could even comprehend anything besides the fact that her husband broke Chimney’s arm and no one had told her, almost a week ago when-- oh god, that phone call, that phone call where he was in pain and said it was a migraine-- she screams again, swatting hands away when Athena and Bobby try.

“No, just no!” she shrieks, “no one fucking touch me.”

“Maddie--”

“No!” she shouts again, holding her stomach to feel Declan’s kicks in an attempt to semi ground herself, “everyone just leave me the fuck alone!”

She hears her name again, from multiple voices, but she doesn’t care, she just needs to be alone. And if locking the guest bedroom door is her only chance at being alone, then so be it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oop it starting to get real


End file.
